Moving On
by Emma Hynes
Summary: Two years had passed since the fateful battle at Hogwarts, and Nathalie still hadn't had a moment of peace. Fed up of her notoriety, she upped and left the Wizarding World, hoping for just a couple of years of quiet. Nathalie's fortunes had never been brilliant, and she chooses the one place in the world with just as much drama as her world - Mystic Falls. Fem!Harry/Klaus
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Vampire Diaries or Harry Potter.**

* * *

><p>All she could hear was an incessant buzzing in her ears, the constant explosions finally taking a toll on her hearing. Her throbbing head seemed to be leaking a warm, sticky liquid that was obscuring her vision and she blinked, trying to at least make out a few shapes and figure out what the hell just happened. As her senses returned to her, Nathalie realised that she was half buried under a wreckage, leg trapped beneath a nasty piece of rock which would probably do a fair amount of damage if it stayed there any longer. Her nostrils were flooded with the scent of dust, smoke and blood and she gagged slightly, coughing on the particles making their way into her lungs. She lifted her wand, weakly, levitating the rock off her leg when she heard the most horrendous, heart-wrenching cry that no curse, hex or spell could ever cause.<p>

Looking up in alarm, she noticed Hermione scrambling to her feet and two redheads crowding around a body on the ground. Nathalie's heart dropped to her stomach, sinking further and further as she, too, attempted to get out of the wreckage. The sharp rubble dug and tore harshly into her palms, her knees and her shins and she was losing even more blood but she didn't care. Emerald eyes widened in panic, she somehow managed to get herself off of the floor and hobbled as quickly as she could towards the body. She couldn't help but beg any higher power that that wasn't who she thought it was - it would be entirely unfair and sadistic for the powers above to do this, yet again, to a single individual. She prayed that they would show her just a little bit of mercy, this one time.

She should have known from her track record that it would be far too much to ask.

'No - no - no!' someone was shouting. 'No! Fred! _No_!'

It felt like her heart had stopped. She couldn't do anything but stare at Fred, eyes completely wide in horror, the ring on her left hand feeling heavier and heavier each second that passed. Those emerald green eyes were immobile, but anyone who looked into them would be able to see a flurry of emotion behind her horrified expression.

She couldn't say anything.

Nathalie would later reflect on this moment and wonder whether this was how Hermione felt in second year whilst she was petrified. Her mind was running at five hundred thousand miles per minute, but her body wouldn't respond. All she could focus on at that moment was Fred's empty, dead, blank eyes. Percy was desperately shaking his younger brother, tears streaming down his face and Fred's head jostled and rolled so that he was staring directly at Nathalie.

She choked down the bile crawling up her throat with a choked, shuddering breath. When those blank eyes turned to her and the deep pools of brown that she would often seek comfort in showed no sign of that prankster spark, she could only focus on one thing.

That haunting expression on his face would give her nightmares about for years to come, the ghost of his final laugh still present. That face told her everything, and the meaning of it crushed her already battered heart into thousands of pathetic, useless pieces. That expression proved only one thing to Nathalie.

Her Freddie was _gone_.

* * *

><p>The dead were lined up in the middle of the Great Hall.<p>

None of the trio said a word as Ron and Hermione approached the Weasley's family mourning for their son and brother. Nathalie was, once again, frozen. Her mind had never felt so torn, being suffocated with guilt, complete despair and borderline numbness in one minute, and terrifying alertness for danger the next. She had reverted back to the previous option; if she had only given herself up when Voldemort asked her to, then maybe this wouldn't have happened.

Fred would still be alive. He would have been alright - everyone would have been _bloody_ alright if she had just given herself up in the first place.

Her thoughts had taken over her senses, and when her eyes moved back into focus, she realised that, no matter how shattered one's heart is, it will always be able to break more. Beyond Fred's body was Remus and Tonks.

By this point, Nathalie couldn't have stopped the constant flow of silent tears even if the threat was death. Maybe death would be the most peaceful for her - she would see her Freddie again, and they would be happy. She hadn't noticed that she had began taking small steps towards the red headed crowd until they all looked up at her, heartbroken.

Now her vocal chords had given up as well. The muscles in her face were tensed to a mask of what seemed to be indifference as she looked at the body, and those who did not know her may have mistaken her for a cold-hearted woman with no reaction to her fiancé's death if not for the steam of tears gradually turning her eyes more and more bloodshot. She didn't feel it when Mrs. Weasley took her left hand, eyes widening in surprise when she felt the diamond there. She didn't see when everyone except for Ron, Hermione and George gaped at the ring. She didn't hear Mrs. Weasley's sob of 'Why?!' when she realised her baby boy's future was even brighter than she thought it was. Instead, Nathalie brushed a strand of Fred's hair out of his eye, not caring that it was soaked in his blood. Her hand was gentle, almost feather-like - a complete contrast to what Nathalie was feeling. Her resolve seemed to harden the longer she looked at Fred's face.

Unbuttoning the top button of his shirt, she pulled out a leather chord necklace that had a simple, silver band attached to it. She undid it, before tying it around her own neck and buttoning the shirt back up and smoothing it down.

Nathalie had enough. Enough of everyone she had come to rely on being ripped away from her; enough of watching the ones she loved die for her mistakes; enough of being 'The Chosen One' with expectations that would cause the world's largest mountain to cave in - above all, she had had enough of Voldemort. She leaned down and placed a soft kiss on Fred's forehead, whispering a barely audible 'I love you' and gave him a small, watery smile before she looked at George. Her eyes hardened, going from utter vulnerability to complete strength.

Her face conveyed all of her thoughts to the surviving twin, and his eyes widened slightly. Nathalie stood up, not looking at anything apart from the double doors of the Great Hall and she stalked towards the Entrance Hall, with every intent of going to Dumbledore's office.

The Gryffindor robe she was wearing to blend in was, surprisingly, still around her shoulders.

It billowed behind her as she went, seemingly waving at the family who were watching her sadly.

* * *

><p><span><strong>2 Years Later<strong>

'The Wizengamot hereby declare Antonin Dolohov guilty of all charges.'

Nathalie breathed a sigh of relief, tuning out the rest of the trial and the sound of Dolohov's whimpers. This was the last trial that she was required to attend to give evidence against Death Eaters. Even after two years, it was like the battle was never going to be finished - every time a Death Eater is imprisoned, another one was found and, for some reason, Nathalie seemed to be the favourite person for the Ministry to call on.

She supposed that she shouldn't complain, because at the end of the day, putting away the surviving remnants of Voldemort's army was entirely required to restore a sense of safety and peace in the Wizarding World, something which had been completely lacking for over twenty-five years. Nathalie had no doubt that another one would pop up at some point, although she had long decided that if her name was used in another prophecy then she might as well cast the killing curse at her own reflection and let it rebound right into her chest.

Nathalie was absolutely certain that, if she reached even half of the level of stress she did during the war, her psyche would not survive it.

Twirling the ring on her left hand, she reflected on the last two years of her life.

Kingsley Shacklebolt was now Minister for Magic (thank _Merlin_) and was doing a supreme job at smacking out corruption within the Ministry. He had offered her an Auror post, which she was more than capable of fulfilling. To everyone's (including her own) surprise, she turned it down. Perhaps one day she would take him up on his offer after he reassured her that the offer will always remain open - however, right now, she was desperate for a break.

It dawned on her not long after the battle at Hogwarts that even though the leader had been destroyed and the war was essentially won, it didn't mean that the battles were over. She was feeling more strung out and ragged now than she ever felt when she was younger, facing dragons and basilisks, which was a bit backwards, really. Nathalie put it down to her getting too old too fast. Hermione suggested that, even though the events at Hogwarts were together probably more stressful than her current, horcrux-free life, she had been somewhere that was comforting and safe to her. Nathalie could see the logic behind the statement. Hogwarts was her saviour, her safety blanket of sorts and now she was out in the big bag world by herself in an apartment she wasn't too bothered about. Whatever she felt, she didn't feel like she was home - Hogwarts was home.

It also didn't help that, even now, no matter what she's doing or where she is within the Wizarding community, she still had Daily Prophet writers reporting on what kind of sandwich she had that day. The Saviour of the Wizarding World would never get a moment of peace. And that saddened her, greatly. What she would do just for a quiet life, building a career and a family of her own to help her move on.

Unfortunately, the person that would have helped her move on, is the one she was grieving most heavily for.

She felt quite selfish sometimes, especially during her moments of self-pity. Fred was George's twin, his other half and even he was taking steps forward. His wedding to Angelina was in just a few days. Nathalie couldn't quite help feeling like she was stopping those around her from truly moving on. Her despair wasn't this great even for Sirius, Remus, Tonks or her own parents - she put that down to it being a different kind of love.

Looking up, she realised that those present for the trail were beginning to filter out of the room. Giving her ring one last twirl, she stood up as well, grabbing her handbag off the ground and placing it on the crook of her elbow.

It's over, for right now. _Maybe I should go away for a while,_ she thought. _Maybe that would make me feel better._

St. Mungo's have been insisting she take a break once she explained to the healers that she had a horcrux hidden in her for sixteen years. They were completely under the impression that the presence of _two_ magical sources in her body may have hindered the development of her own magic. Nathalie would, begrudgingly, admit to the fact that her magic didn't feel as powerful as it used to. This might be the opportune time for her to make a getaway, work on herself and her magic.

Pondering this thought, she nodded. She would go into Muggle London and buy a set of darts and a world map. Then she would go away.

* * *

><p>'Are you sure you want to do this, Nathalie?' Hermione asked, a frown on her face. The trio were sat in Nathalie's flat in Devon, not too far from the Burrow.<p>

They were in the living room, where Ron was lounging on the plush sofa whilst Hermione stood with her arms crossed watching Nathalie pin a large world map onto the wall. They could hear the sounds of Kreacher in the kitchen, making tea for three and preparing a plate of scones for Ron.

Nathalie nodded, not turning to look at her companions. She knew she wanted a break, but she had no idea where to go. So what does any person who can't choose a location do? They buy a map and a set of darts, throw one and hope for the best. 'I need a break, Hermione. All this attention, the rebuild of the community, it's finally taking it's toll on me. It's like the war is still going on, and I'm still healing. I can't heal here,' she paused, sighing. 'I need to heal enough so that old wounds don't keep opening up.'

Hermione and Ron glanced at each other. They knew exactly what she was talking about, even if they didn't quite know how deeply Fred's death still affected her. Ron grabbed a scone from the tray Kreacher had just brought in, nodding a small thanks in his direction and the grumpy elf gave him a small smile which was more of a grimace than anything. Even if Kreacher rather enjoyed working for Miss Potter these days, it was still difficult for him to let grudges go after living with them his whole life. But, he was trying for his Mistress and that's all that mattered.

'No-one's telling you to stop grieving,' Ron said, glancing at his friend cautiously. Nathalie smiled at him.

'I know they're not, Ron,' she said, brushing her hair out of her eyes, 'But it's George's wedding soon. Even George is moving on, and nobody loved Fred more than George did. Still does.'

'You can't measure how long it takes you to move on against George,' Hermione frowned.

'I'm not, Hermione. But I've been trying to get better the past couple of years, and it's not helping here. The healers have said that maybe a change of scenery would help. How bad could it be? It's probably worth a shot seeing as I'm not actually doing anything productive here,' Nathalie shrugged. She ripped open the small packet of darts, before holding them out to Ron and Hermione. 'So who's going to choose where I'm going to go?'

Hermione slowly reached for the bag of darts, taking them from Nathalie. Her hand tightened around the packet as her eyes narrowed. 'As long as you promise to come back to visit. And you can't leave before George and Angelina's wedding.'

Nathalie laughed. 'Of course! I wouldn't miss it for the world. Plus, if I don't come back, Mrs. Weasley might just come and fetch me herself.'

Ron snorted, and Hermione nodded in satisfaction. She pulled out a dart from the packet and threw it at the map. To the amusement of her companions, it bounced off the wall and landed with a small 'thud' on the wooden floors. She huffed indignantly and threw the packet at Ron's head when she heard his laughter. 'You do it then, Ronald,' she snapped.

He raised an eyebrow at her, before pulling another dart out. 'Alright. Relax, would you?' he rolled his eyes as he threw it towards the map.

This time, it hit a target. Nathalie glanced over the map. The dart was stuck in an area called Mystic Falls, in Virginia, America. Contemplating this, she nodded to herself. That would be far enough away, she thought. Nathalie shot a thumbs up at Ron, who smiled smugly as he grabbed another scone.

'Kreacher,' she said, and the elf appeared with a crack. 'How would you like to move away for a while?'

'Whatever Mistress pleases,' he replied, voice monotone. Kreacher's eyes looked up curiously at his Mistress, who looked marginally happier than she had in a long time.

* * *

><p>George and Angelina's wedding was in two days, and Nathalie had made plans to after the reception; Merlin knows the kind of damage Nathalie would receive from every female Weasley if she missed a wedding.<p>

It was for this reason that Nathalie was navigating the bustling streets of Diagon Alley, muttering under her breath as she did so.

Diagon Alley had definitely picked up the pace since the defeat of Lord Voldemort. Shop owners lined the streets pulling customers into their stores as parents pulled their children in and out of the crowd shopping for school supplies. Even Ollivander's was back up and running, much to Nathalie's joy. It was probably the busiest time of year for Diagon Alley, and yet here she was. Shopping.

She needed to get a gift for George and Angelina, as well as stock up on any magical supplies she may need whilst she was away. It was starting to sink in that she truly was moving; she had managed to secure a house in Mystic Falls quite quickly after speaking to a realtor over the phone. Kreacher had begun to move her things from her little flat to her new home, seeing as elf-apparition was actually a very powerful and wonderful thing and Nathalie would probably splinch herself if she tried to apparate that far. She figured that she could just get any missing furniture whilst she was there - although she should probably transfer a good amount of gold into Muggle money, seeing as she wasn't too sure of what to expect in Virginia, magic-wise.

Nathalie debated about whether to get an owl. She thought it might be a little cruel to get an owl for overseas post; it would take at least a day for the owl to make the journey, so she decided against it in the end. Ever since Hedwig died, she hadn't managed to convince herself to get a new owl. Instead, she made her way to Magical Menagerie, shoving her way through the crowd and ignoring the occasional whisper of, 'Look, it's Nathalie Potter!'.

Stepping into the rather unpleasant smelling shop, she drew the attention of the shopkeeper immediately. A slightly chubby, balding man wearing a shirt that had fairly questionable stains on it quickly approached her, a broad smile on his face.

'Miss Potter!' he said happily. 'What can I do for you today?'

Nathalie smiled at him, casting her eyes around the shop. 'I'm going away for a while, and I thought that it would be nice to have some company.'

The shopkeeper raised his eyebrows. 'Away, Miss Potter? Wherever to?'

'That has yet to be decided,' she said, choosing to keep her true location as quiet as possible. 'Australia, perhaps.'

'Well,' he stuttered slightly, still surprised at Nathalie's proclamation. 'We've just received a shipment of Puffskeins-'

Nathalie shook her head, and the man quieted. She wasn't sure what she wanted, really. Maybe a cat would have sufficed - she opened her mouth to ask for one, when she felt a warm, furry presence nudging her leg.

She looked down, and saw a white cat with bright, blue eyes and fairly matted, spotted fur and a plumed tail looking up at her expectantly. It reminded her of Crookshanks slightly, and she smiled. Nathalie knelt on the ground, giving the cat a quick scratch behind the ears and it purred in response.

'Is this fella for sale?' she asked, giving it a tickle under the chin.

The shopkeeper faltered. 'Uh- well, Miss Potter- this is actually one of our more troublesome animals. Pretty, but she's had a history of attacking customers. We can't seem to be rid of her. She's a kneazle as well, you see, so that makes her harder to sell-'

'How long does it take to obtain a license?' she interrupted.

'Well, between three days and a couple of hours-'

'Alright. Well, I would like to apply for a Kneazle license, please, and purchase this cutie as well. I can come back in a little while to fetch her?'

The shopkeeper was quiet for a moment, before he reached behind his desk and pulled out a small stack of papers for Nathalie to fill out. 'It's an extra fee of eleven galleons for a rush on the license, Miss. And seventeen galleons for the Kneazle.'

Nathalie stood up, sticking her hand in her bag in an effort to find her purse. After a few seconds of rummaging, she pulled it out - she had bought it in Muggle London; it was a dark green leather, a golden twist clasp in the shape of a bird with a coin compartment on the outside and various places for notes, receipts and cards on the inside, about the length of her hand. She opened up the coin compartment, and pulled out the required twenty-eight galleons.

(She had cast an undetectable extension charm in the coin compartment.)

'I assume that there's a fee for the actual license itself, as well?' she questioned. The shopkeeper seemed to snap out of whatever reverie he was in, before nodding fervently.

'Yes! Sorry, I completely forgot about that, Miss Potter. It's nine galleons for the actual license itself.'

She pulled out another nine galleons which he hastily placed in the till and handed her the receipt. Wordlessly, she filled out the small stack of forms and allowed a slightly awkward silence surround herself and the shopkeeper, who rushed off the first chance he got - when a customer walked in.

Straightening herself up when she was done, she turned to the kneazle. 'I'll be back for you in just a little while.' Nathalie smiled.

The kneazle seemed to understand, as she turned and marched herself into a corner, curling up into a ball. Nathalie approached the shopkeeper who was tending to another customer, informed him that she would be back in a few hours for supplies, the license and her new pet, before she walked back out to the bustling streets of Diagon Alley.

* * *

><p>She didn't quite know what she was doing in Twilfitt and Tatting's, of all shops. Probably the most 'high-class' wizarding clothing shop in London, she had never found the need to go inside because everything she could ever want was at Madam Malkin's.<p>

And yet, here she was, eyeing up the most wonderful travelling cloak that she could bet cost more than her new house in Mystic Falls.

It was beautiful. A deep, midnight black, it was fur-lined throughout and was completely soft to the touch. Surprisingly, one of the most appealing features of the cloak was the fact that it had pockets. Nathalie wanted this cloak. Badly. And damn, she was going to get it.

Turning around to a snooty-looking witch behind the counter who was frowning at Nathalie's clothing choices of the day - an emerald wrapover top, black skinny jeans and dark brown calf wedge boots - she opened her mouth to ask for the cloak, when the door opened.

A familiar head of platinum blonde hair walked through the door, followed by three more. Draco Malfoy and his parents, Narcissa and Lucius where here, along with a blonde girl that she vaguely remembered seeing around Hogwarts. Draco and Lucius both looked fed up and bored - surprisingly, these expressions did not suit them at all. The girls, however, were chattering excitedly.

Draco looked surprised when he saw Nathalie in the shop. She was a looker, but definitely not one of the most glamorous women he had come across in his life. She gave him a wave, before making her way to the woman behind the counter.

'I want that cloak,' she said shortly, gesturing at the cloak in the window.

'Right - well, that one is quite expensive, Miss, perhaps you would like an alternative?' she replied, unable to restrain herself from curling her lip into a light snarl.

Nathalie raised an eyebrow. 'I want that cloak. I would like you to retrieve it for me, so I can pay for it. If you please.'

The woman glared, before standing up and walking to the mannequin. She pulled the price tag from under the hood, before turning back to Nathalie. 'This might be out of your price range, Miss. It is, after all, sixty galleons.'

Draco's eyebrows creased in confusion. What the hell would Nathalie need such an expensive travelling cloak for? Of course, he himself was not against luxuries in life - hence why he was in this establishment - although Potter didn't seem the kind to bother paying so much for one item, especially an item of clothing.

'I'll give you sixty five if you just _shut up and let me pay for the bloody thing_,' she deadpanned, pulling out her purse and slamming down a couple of handfuls of coins on the counter. The girl looked surprised for a moment, before scrambling to go wrap up the cloak.

'What on earth do you need a travelling cloak for?' Draco finally questioned. His companions had noticed Nathalie at the beginning of the exchange; their expressions were quite neutral, although fairly curious.

It had been no secret that the Malfoy's and Nathalie Potter were somewhat friends after the war, especially Draco himself. She testified at their trial and made sure they got away with little more than probation. They supposed that they owed Nathalie quite a lot - she rejected this, however, saying that they never would have won if Narcissa didn't lie to Voldemort in that forest.

'I'm going away for a while,' she said wistfully, pulling several sickles and knuts out of her purse. That witch had annoyed her - so she was going to punish her by making her count out the full price of her travelling cloak in sickles and knuts. _Take that_, she thought, before realising that she really had to get a life. Rather badly.

Draco Malfoy probably made the most inarticulate comment of his life. 'Eh?' He didn't notice the small glares his parents shot him when he made such a sound.

'I think I need a break, don't you?' she replied, smiling. 'I've been called into Death Eater apprehensions and trials constantly for the last two years. A change of scenery would do me good, I think.'

To everyone's surprise, Draco walked over to her and gave her a light hug. 'Well, if that's the case.' He didn't finish his comment - instead, he gathered up the coins that Nathalie had placed on the counter and put them back in her purse, ignoring her squeak of protest. He pulled out a heavy pouch, dropping it on the counter with a _thud_. Nathalie glared.

'I can pay for my own things, you know,' she said. He knew full well that she was just as wealthy as he was, these days. She had the Potter and Black fortune to her name, as well as money coming to her every month from the Ministry.

'Think of it as a going away present,' he smirked, taking the cloak from the counter and handing it to her. 'It's a very nice cloak.'

She took it, her face expressionless. She eventually gave him a warm smile and gave his arm a squeeze. 'Thanks,' she said.

He shrugged. 'No problem. Just remember to visit.'

She laughed and waved at the group, before stepping out of the shop.

* * *

><p>The sight of a marquee in the garden of the burrow was becoming more and more familiar as the months went by. Wedding after wedding occurred; Bill and Fleur, Ginny and Neville, Hermione and Ron, and now George and Angelina. She could imagine her own marriage occurring in the backyard of the place where she considered home the moment she saw it as well one day.<p>

Nathalie smoothed down her dress gingerly. Although she wasn't overly close with Angelina, she was incredibly close to George. He had insisted that she be the one that marries them, not that it took much convincing. She was completely honoured at the offer, although she regretted it ever so slightly now that the day had come.

Her dress was simple. Audrey Hepburn style, it was a deep red, went to her knees and she wore a gold belt to accentuate her waist. Her shoes were a matte black, round-toe stiletto heel, the platform and the heels themselves the same gold as her belt. In her hand was a black clutch with golden accents (with the added benefit of an Undetectable Extension Charm and a Feather-Light Charm, seeing as she was leaving as soon as the reception was over). Her ears were full of golden jewellery, she a simple gold choker necklace on and a thick golden bangle on. She looked pretty, although she would never be able to steal the show today - which was exactly her intention. Even if she was showing off her Gryffindor pride.

She made her way towards the marquee, taking a deep breath to calm her nerves. It didn't take long for her to get there, and took even less someone to notice and approach her.

'Nat!' Bill said happily, giving her a tight squeeze. She hugged him back, laughing slightly at his excitement.

'Where is everyone?' she asked, figuring they were getting ready in their respective areas in the house. She thought she should at least say hello before she married them and left, as she didn't know quite when she would be back.

'George is getting ready in his old room, and Angelina is getting ready in Ginny's old one,' he replied, giving her a once over. 'You look good! When are you leaving?'

News of Nathalie's decision to take a _sabbatical_ of sorts travelled quickly though her surrogate family. Nobody would voice it, but they were glad she was going - not because they didn't love her dearly, because they did, but because they wanted her to finally heal somewhat and if leaving was the way to go about it, then so be it.

'After the reception,' she said, jiggling her clutch slightly. 'I suppose I'd best go find George, huh?'

He nodded, before giving her another quick squeeze and pushing her in the direction of the house. With a parting smile, he went off to find Fleur and Nathalie made her way to George's childhood bedroom.

She knocked, and waited. It took a couple of seconds for someone to come to the door, but after a couple of small crashes and curse words, George peeked out. When he saw his visitor, he opened the door as wide as it could go, grabbed Nathalie and pushed her into his room before slamming it shut again.

'Nervous, then?' she snickered, looking at his dishevelled hair. He had spent most of the morning running his hands through it. Midday seemed to be taking an age to arrive; he just wanted to get it over with and be married, because the stress was bloody awful. Wordlessly, he nodded as he began to pace.

This was so out of character for him, she couldn't help but laugh. Gently, Nathalie took his shoulders and sat him down on his bed, as he looked up at her like a very lost, very scared puppy. She grabbed a brush from his desk, smoothing out his hair, knowing that Angelina would kill him if he turned up looking less than pristine.

'This is absolutely bloody terrifying, Nat,' George said quietly. It was moments like these that reminded her of the differences between the twins. George had always been the more sensitive, mature, gentler of the pair. It was hardly surprising that, without Fred, the beginning of his wedding day wasn't much fun. His statement screamed a thousand hidden meanings - the main one being, '_I wish Fred was here._'

Nathalie smiled sadly, brushing a stray lock of hair out of his face. She moved her hand to his shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. 'I do too, Georgie,' she said softly. 'But Angelina makes you happy. You'll be alright.'

'Are _you_ alright?' he asked, looking deeply into her eyes. He saw a flash of pain and an overwhelming sadness in them - Nathalie was very good at hiding her expressions, although her eyes portrayed everything if one knew how to read them. And George definitely knew how to read them.

'I miss him, George,' she whispered, 'But I'll be alright. I just wonder sometimes, would we be married by now? We probably would, and maybe the aftermath of everything would be much easier to deal with if he was here.' The hand that wasn't squeezing George's shoulder had reached up to her neck and pulled out a thin, leather necklace that kept safe a silver engagement band. She fingered it, eyes glazing over for just a moment.

'But enough about me,' she said, a happy gleam returning to her eyes. 'This is your wedding day! There's no place for sadness here.'

'When are you leaving?' he asked, beginning to stand up. Nathalie had to crane her neck a fair bit to see him - she was much shorter than George. It was almost funny, the height difference.

'After your reception,' she replied, jiggling her bag to demonstrate her being packed and ready the same way she did with Bill. 'Kreacher's already moved all of my things, and I should probably go before the Ministry finds a way to make me stay.'

'That's quite soon,' he mumbled. After Fred's death, he had taken a protective role over his would-be sister-in-law. Nathalie could probably credit her mental state to George - he had helped her, just as she tried to help him move on from the loss and, if it wasn't for George, she'd probably be locked up in St. Mungo's.

'I made sure I had a fireplace,' she chuckled softly, getting louder when George brightened. The journey would be hell, seeing as it was overseas and anyone travelling that way would probably be black with soot by the time they arrived as well as being very dizzy, although it was much quicker than flying and much safer than apparation. One of the reasons why she was so open to moving may have been down to the fact that, with magic, nobody was ever too far away.

He grabbed her in a bear hug, picking her up and spinning her around. She laughed as he put her back on the ground, giving her a kiss on the forehead before putting her down. She loved hugging George - it was like being with Fred, although for some reasons he could always tell the difference. She leaned into him a little more, giving him a big squeeze before they let go of each other.

Nathalie took his hand, shooting him a genuine bright smile. 'Lets get you married, Mr. Weasley!' she chirped, tugging on his hand.

He groaned, but grinned anyway and let him be pulled by the petite brunette towards the sound of his mother, shrieking his name.

* * *

><p>'You must come home for Christmas, do you understand?' Molly said sternly, giving Nathalie a firm squeeze as they gathered in the kitchen in the Burrow, saying goodbye to Nathalie before George and Angelina leave for their honeymoon.<p>

The wedding was finished. Everything was beautiful, and Nathalie felt a great deal of sadness about leaving this wonderful family. The most important people were here, and their spouses as well. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Hermione and Ron, Ginny and Neville, George and Angelina, Percy and Aubrey, Bill and Fleur, Andromeda and Teddy - even Charlie and Luna were there, much to Nathalie's delight. The room was feeling quite oxygen-deprived, but she didn't mind. Her heart was warmed by everyone's well wishes, hugs and demands that she come home soon. With everyone gathered in one room, she realised that, despite all of the loss she suffered in the war, she still had an incredible family and support system.

It made going away so much easier, because she knew that these people would be waiting for her to come home.

It was like a pass the parcel game - once she had said goodbye to one person, she was passed onto the next. By far, the hardest goodbyes for her were Hermione, Ron, George and Teddy.

First came Hermione. She had squeaked, trying to choke back her tears and tackled Nathalie in a tight hug. (If you need anything, then come home. Call. Skype me. If you get into _any_ trouble, you need to let me know. _Promise me!_)

Ron was slightly less emotional, although the bear hug he gave her said a thousand words. Casting a slightly worried glance at Hermione (who was trying _very _hard not to cast a charm on Nathalie to make her stay), he simply said, 'What Hermione said,' which drew a watery chuckle from Nathalie.

George repeated his earlier actions - he picked her up, swung her around and kissed her on the forehead. There was nothing that needed to be said between the two - Nathalie knew. George knew. They both knew what the other would have said, so they left it at that.

Teddy's hair was blue. His hair often went this colour when he was sad. 'Natnat!' he said, reaching for her. Nathalie took him from Andromeda's arms before pulling him into a tight hug. He was usually quite a squirmy baby - this time, though, he put his head in the crook of her neck and cuddled into her.

'Natnat come home,' he mumbled. Nathalie took a shuddering breath, fighting back the tears as everyone in the room looked on at the scene which was tugging at their heartstrings.

'Of course I'll be home, Teddybear,' she said, giving him a few kisses. 'I'll be home for holidays, and everybody's birthdays.'

'Promise?' he said, looking her in the eye. His hair began to change colour from a deep blue to a light brown - he was cheering up.

'Promise. Especially for Teddy's birthday,' she grinned. 'Wouldn't want to miss you turning into a big three, now, would I?'

'No,' Teddy said firmly, nodding at her. The occupants in the room laughed, and the mood lightened considerably. Nathalie gave Teddy one last kiss, before she summoned Kreacher. He arrived in the room with a loud _crack!_, looking distastefully around the room before turning to his master. In his hand, he clutched onto the cage containing Nathalie's new pet (which she still hadn't gotten round to naming).

'Is Mistress ready to go?' he mumbled, not looking anyone in the eye. She pulled out her new travelling cloak, courtesy of Draco, from her clutch, draping it around her shoulders and tying it around her neck. Nathalie nodded at Kreacher, taking his free hand and waving at everyone in the room with the hand she held her clutch in. Without a warning, Kreacher disapparated with a loud _crack!, _and Nathalie Potter was gone.

* * *

><p>The reception had only lasted into the early evening. George and Angelina were anxious to go on their honeymoon, and it had finished at about eight thirty.<p>

This meant that, when her and Kreacher arrived in her new home, it wouldn't be long until sunset.

Nathalie put her clutch down before going to the front door of her house, stepping outside for a first-hand look at the property she had rushed to buy.

It was quite a small house, but on a large, fairly secluded property. She figured that she needed privacy so random people wouldn't happen across Kreacher - that would bring about a lot of panicked questions that Nathalie couldn't even begin answering. The realtor had told her that it was built in the prohibition era, although by the looks of it, it had been remodelled. It had a modern-cottage feel; woodsy, very brown with a driveway, lots of windows and a large garden until it hit the tree line to the forest beyond the home. There was a small greenhouse nearby, which Nathalie was very excited about - she had a few plants, mainly magical, that needed care and a few seeds she had planned on planting as well.

She was satisfied with the outside of the home, and made a mental note to get herself a car in the near future. Not like she needed to drive, but it would help with blending in and she couldn't apparate anywhere when a) she didn't know the town at all, and b) there were muggles absolutely _everywhere_. She made a mental note to cast some protective charms around the house when it got dark. She wasn't going to risk it right now, so she made her way back inside to inspect it and see if she could make any improvements.

There was a small hallway area that lead to an open-plan kitchen and living room, bathroom and a staircase which led upstairs. Nothing seemed overly interesting downstairs. She knew there was a cellar - there was a cupboard under the stairs that lead to the small storage area. She wandered down, checking for any faults or dampness. She found none. Nathalie turned to Kreacher.

'If you want, Kreacher, you can have the cellar to do whatever you want with,' she said. A face-splitting grin crossed his face, much to her surprise.

'Oh, yes, Mistress! Mistress is too kind,' he said excitedly, hopping a couple of times, the fake Slytherin locket bouncing on his chest. She put her hand on his head affectionately before making her way back up the steps. She continued up - there were two bedrooms and one bathroom upstairs. One was considerably larger than the other, which she claimed as her own. She figured the other one could be a guest bedroom, for when Teddy comes to visit. She made a mental note to go out and buy some furniture the next day - the house was depressingly empty with only a sofa in the living room, as she had only ordered Kreacher to bring her belongings and leave nearly the furniture.

She wandered around her bedroom. The window was large, giving her a lovely view into her garden and there was a large ensuite with lots of glass and brown panelling, a waterfall shower and a large bathtub. She also had a walk-in wardrobe, enough space to put all of her clothes and shoes in probably twice over.

It was a nice place, and she was glad to find it. Nathalie knew there was one part of the house she hadn't found yet - the loft.

To her surprise, the entrance to the attic was in her bedroom, in the far corner. Pulling on the trap door, a flimsy ladder fell out. She climbed it slowly, trying not to disturb it too much so she wouldn't fall.

It was a small space, but nothing an Undetectable Extension Charm wouldn't fix. It was also extremely dusty, but nothing that a quick _Scourgify _and _Tergeo_ couldn't clean up. All in all, the house was great. It suited her needs, and now that she knew what the attic looked like, she could just apparate up here if she needed to. This room would be her magic haven, she decided. And no one would find it.

She apparated back into her bedroom. She muttered an _Evanesco _at the ladder, removing the death trap and flicked her wand at the trap door, which sealed shut. She then cast a concealment charm on the door, and her haven was safe.

With a sigh, Nathalie realised just how tired she actually was. Kreacher had put her boxes of clothes in her bedroom, so she reached in for a set of pyjamas and quickly got changed, sticking her dirty clothes in the corner of the room.

Tucking her wand in her waistband, Nathalie reached into her clutch and pulled out a laptop and the charger that came with it, before padding her way downstairs. The floors were so very cold on her feet - carpets may be a necessity in this house, she decided.

She made her way towards the sofa, casting a quick cleaning charm before she settled onto it and transfigured herself a large, fluffy blanket from a bit of fluff on the ground. She felt herself relaxing - not long after that, the jetlag and excitement of the wedding day had caught up to her and she was fast asleep, leaving Kreacher to pluck the machine out of her hands and place it on the ground next to her.

Nathalie's new kneazle hopped up onto the windowsill, staring out into the forest. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, although she was a magical creature – she could sense that things may not be as they seemed. The cat glanced over at her new master. She was kind, with good intentions and she was happy to have Nathalie as her master. She hopped off the windowsill, padding quietly to the sleeping figure on the sofa before jumping up and snuggling into her chest. Nathalie stirred slightly, although she stayed asleep – instead, she wrapped her arms around her new companion, and continued to dream.

* * *

><p><em>I couldn't help myself.<br>__Reviews are motivation! :)_


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or the Vampire Diaries.**

* * *

><p><em>'Oi, love. Love!'<em>

_Nathalie groaned, the scar on her head prickling. Her head pounded, and she desperately tried to focus on the lovely, warm, familiar voice that was distracting her from a dream. A dark dream that, even in an unconscious state, she knew she shouldn't be privy to. She felt something warm on her forehead and a light shake of her shoulder. Whatever was nudging her, it was warm - and, in her exhausted state, she reached out and grabbed for it only to feel that it was attached to something substantially larger than her, and very soft. Even warmer than whatever was nudging her. It was cold in that room__, so, without much thought, she wrapped her arms around it and pulled, snuggling against her new-found space heater._

_It was all well and good, until she felt it vibrate against her face. Was that a chuckle?_

_'I was gonna ask who this Gregorovitch fella was and whether you had another man in your life, but this reaction seems to remove that __suspicion fairly well,' an amused voice chuckled softly. Without warning, the person she had currently attached herself to shifted her so that her face was in their neck, their arms wrapped securely around the tiny, very sleepy brunette._

_Recognition tickled her brain._

_'Freddie,' she mumbled, nuzzling further into his neck. He smelled very lovely, she decided. Sandalwood, the cologne she had bought him for his seventeenth birthday and a very mild smell of explosives and potions, from him working on his experiments. Nathalie sighed in contentment, and forgot about everything but him and how lovely he smelled, just for a moment. She liked the jumper he was wearing, too. It was old and had a couple of holes in, but soft and fluffy and whenever he wore it, it smelled like him for _ages _if he didn't wash it so sometimes she stole it and she would go to sleep with it, unashamed of how __unbearably clingy that was.__ Plus, he thought it was cute, even if he would tease her for it a little bit._

_'Hi, sweet,' he said softly, giving her a kiss on the forehead. Sleepy Nat was probably one of his favourite Nats. The whole reason he had come upstairs to get her in the first place was because Molly had told him to, and he knew she would come storming upstairs if he didn't come back down, stat. Nevertheless, sleepy Nat was probably the most relaxed Nathalie - especially in this current environment. It would be unfair for anyone to expect Fred not to enjoy the moment for as long as possible._

_She mumbled in response, her grip tightening as she wrapped herself around him more._

_Fred's hand sneaked under her shirt so that he was tickling the base of her back, and she squeaked. His other hand had found itself scratching the back of her head, and she squirmed. Fred snickered slightly. Sometimes he wondered whether she would be a cat if she was an Animagus - she certainly acted like one sometimes._

_A few more moments of silence and he knew he wouldn't be able to delay his mother from storming upstairs whilst he was busy enjoying his company. So, with a small sigh of resignation, he lifted her head towards his and planted a firm kiss on her mouth._

_Her eyes fluttered, opening for a moment as she pushed back with her own kiss. It wasn't long until he pulled away, and she squeaked in disagreement, her eyebrows furrowed. Fred let out a hearty laugh._

_'Time to wake up, birthday girl,' he teased, gently prying her off of him and getting off the bed. Nathalie buried her head in her pillow, cursing quietly under her breath before she shot up, excitement gleaming in her eyes._

_'It's my birthday!' she said happily, although it came out as more of a question than a statement. She could legally do magic now! The trace wasn't on her anymore!_

_Fred grinned at her, although it didn't quite reach his eyes. Everyone in the Burrow - including Fred - knew what Nathalie's coming of age entailed. It meant that, as soon as the wedding was over, she was going away._

_She didn't notice, though, too busy thinking about the cake that she knew Mrs. Weasley had baked for her. Her stomach grumbled loudly, demanding food and she blushed, instantly calming and looking up at Fred shyly._

_He snorted, before sitting back down on the bed, handing her the rectangular, black-rimmed glasses from the bedside table which she put on wordlessly. 'Want your present?'_

_Her eyes widened. 'Oh, Fred- no- you didn't have to-' she stuttered, quieting when he raised an eyebrow at her._

_'I wanted to,' he said simply, pulling a small black box from his pocket. Her eyes widened._

_Every female in the world knows what the black box means._

_'I know you're going away, and that you are never going to let me come with you,' he paused, remembering the heated debate after Dumbledore's death (I am not risking your life for this! What about your shop? And George?! I gave you a thousand galleons to start this shop and it is your dream, don't you dare bloody abandon it now! You are not coming!), before he continued. 'So, instead of making you stay- which I'm not doing because I'm the most wonderful boyfriend,' (insert Nathalie's eye roll and Fred's cheeky smirk here) 'I'm going to give you a reason to come home to me instead.'_

_Fred slid off the bed and got down on one knee, for once a completely serious look in his eyes as he stared searchingly into Nathalie's emerald ones- which were watering. 'Nathalie Lily Potter, would you do me the great honour and make me the happiest man alive by becoming my wife?'_

_Nathalie's head screamed yes. Her voice box, however, seemed to have been _evanesco'd _into a far away dimension. Instead, she leaped off the bed and tackled him, her hands pulling his face close to hers. The kiss really said everything that needed to be said, and Fred knew it - when she pulled away, though, she nodded anyway. Her eyes were steaming with happy tears, and she wore an ear-splitting grin.__ He smiled back at her, desperately trying to ignore the throbbing pain in his back from landing funny on top of a very sharp-looking stiletto he was sure belonged to Ginny._

_'I'll come home to you,' she said, looking at him in the eyes. He had never seen such a sincere proclamation from anyone. Even if it was an unrealistic promise, he was satisfied by the fact that her eyes had said to him what words did not - 'I will come home to you, or I will die trying.'_

_Fred's radiance would have brought the sun to shame. His joy was immeasurable. _

_'What's your mum gonna say when she sees the ring, though?' Nathalie asked, as Fred slipped it __on the correct finger and gave her knuckles a kiss. 'I'm going away and it's Bill and Fleur's wedding tomorrow, plus I technically haven't graduated. She'll never let me leave__ if she knew. She__'__ll never let_ you_ leave, either.__'_

_She inspected it. It was a stunning ring - and she realised after a moment's inspection that it was actually their birthstones. Diamond, for Fred's April birthday and ruby for Nathalie's July birthday. It was very simple - a larger diamond in the middle of a thin, silver band with a smaller ruby on either side. It was understated, although she could tell it was expensive. They were the kind of jewels that, when caught in a certain light, could be blinding to whoever was looking at it.__ Expensive, high-quality jewels._

_She didn't even want to think about how much this would have cost him._

_'I have a way around that,' he said, and with a flick of his wand, it had disappeared. She could still feel it on her finger, though. _

_A concealment charm._

_Nathalie grinned. _

_Screw mum, he thought. He grinned right back at her. Another wave of the wand and the door was locked - a final wave and a mutter of _Muffliato _coupled with a silencing charm meant that they weren't going to be disturbed._

_His lips found hers again, and they leaned back onto the single bed Nathalie was currently sleeping in._

_Then they celebrated their engagement._

_Fairly quickly, though. Mrs. Weasley was definitely not a force to be reckoned with._

* * *

><p>'Mistress!'<p>

Nathalie groaned as another raspy croak reached her ears. For once, Nathalie quite enjoyed her dream. She couldn't quite keep the glare off her face when she opened her eyes and saw Kreacher there - glaring right back at her.

Got some character, this elf, that's for sure.

She yawned and rubbed her eyes, sitting up from her makeshift bed and looked at Kreacher expectantly, raising an eyebrow.

'It's 8am, Mistress,' he croaked, and her eyes widened. She hadn't slept past six in _months._ With this realisation, she felt much more refreshed, ready for the day. Nathalie hopped up, unaware of the kneazle still resting happily on her chest - her new pet fell off her with a yowl, hackles raised and Nathalie squeaked in surprise.

'I'm so sorry!' she said, eyes wide and her hands raised in defence. Slowly, the kneazle began to relax, sensing that her new master meant no harm. Nathalie slowly reached towards the animal, and waited for her to approach her for a tickle behind the ears. After a few minutes, she did just that.

Obviously, Hagrid's techniques from Care of Magical Creatures had finally paid off.

'I haven't given you a name yet, have I?' Nathalie realised. By this point, she had sat on the ground with her back against the old sofa. The kneazle had decided she was comfortable enough with her new master and had sat down between Nathalie's legs, which were crossed Indian-style. Distantly, Nathalie registered the sizzling of eggs and bacon from the kitchen (_when the hell did Kreacher get food?_ she thought), but concentrated on the animal.

'Camarin,' she said suddenly, and the newly-christened Camarin the Kneazle looked up at her owner curiously. Nathalie continued. 'It means shelterer, or guardian. That's one of the main characteristics of a kneazle, isn't it?'

Camarin looked at Nathalie a moment longer, before she purred softly, appearing to nod. Nathalie grinned in return, giving her a final tickle before standing up. Looking round, her uncharacteristic morning energy seemed to fade.

She had a lot to do today, Furniture shopping, car shopping, food shopping..

Her thoughts wandered to the box in her bedroom full of muggle cash. Maybe she would visit the bank, too. Either way, she knew that she wasn't going to be without jobs to do today.

She turned her head to look out the window and decided, out of habit, to set up her wards. She didn't bother with changing or putting shoes on. Instead, she padded outside with Camarin hovering by her feet. Taking a deep breath, she lifted her wand into the air.

'_Protego Maxima. Fianto Duri. Repello Inimicum. Muffliato. Protego Horribilis. Protego Totalum._'

She repeated the charms until it looked like a heatwave had settled in a dome around her property; she watched it as it settled, turning invisible to the eye.

Camarin let out a sound akin to a meow, rubbing her face on Nathalie's legs. They both turned and wandered back inside.

* * *

><p>Bonnie felt strange.<p>

Something was different - something, some kind of energy she had never felt was penetrating the very fibre of her bones. With a shiver, Bonnie tried to focus on it. She had no idea what to do with this feeling, and quite frankly, didn't have the energy to deal with anything more - with Caroline in the hospital and everything about the Gilbert device hanging over their heads, the last thing she needed was one more thing that everyone would expect her to fix.

She brought her fingers to her temples, rubbing them gently. Sometimes, being a witch was extremely frustrating - the responsibility of keeping the balance was often a much bigger ask than it seemed, and her abilities were much more versatile than anyone else she knew. If anything else was to go wrong, she would be the one on the line to fix it because she's the powerful Bennett witch.

(Perhaps Bonnie would be much more unhappy if she knew that, actually, the new addition to Mystic Falls could take Bonnie down, permanently, with a flick of the wrist.)

* * *

><p>It was eleven o'clock in the morning when Nathalie emerged, clean, from her bedroom. She had spent a couple of hours on the phone to the broadband company, and casting various scouring and cleaning charms around the house, ready to be decorated. She was actually very excited about decorating her own home - her flat, she had rented and wasn't allowed to make any major changes - and there's only so much one can do to Grimmauld Place. With so much time on her hands, she decided that she would do it the muggle way - maybe, if it gets overly tedious, she could call in a few Weasley brothers to help her.<p>

Nathalie wore a pair of dark skinny jeans, a pair of plain black ballet flats and a loose, soft and old grey v-neck t-shirt that hung off her shoulder slightly with her brown/black curls tied up in a messy bun atop her head, wand tucked into it like a chopstick. Her makeup was minimal - enough to cover that slowly growing spot on her chin, and a layer of mascara to bring out her green eyes. She was probably going to end up heaving Merlin-knows-what to and from her car throughout the day anyway - and, with any luck, maybe she'll end up getting round to painting, too.

She walked to the end of her driveway, rifling through her handbag. Purse, check. Phone, check. House keys, check. Nathalie nodded, satisfied, just as a taxi pulled up her driveway. She got in the back and gave the driver a bright smile.

'Hi there!' she said happily. The taxi driver looked a bit taken aback at her cheerfulness, but she was unperturbed. 'Can you take me to the nearest car dealership, please?'

He nodded, looking up at her through the mirror. 'New in town?' he enquired. He had come across many newcomers to Mystic Falls in the last few months - and it was completely unusual. Mystic Falls was the kind of town where the community stayed to themselves, and nobody came and went. Now, everything's gone entirely to pot since the town started growing in population.

'Mmhm,' Nathalie confirmed, staring out the window at the view. She did think it was a rather quaint, lovely town - much nicer than Little Whinging was, although it paled to insignificance against Hogwarts (Nathalie couldn't hold this fact against the town - most places paled in comparison to Hogwarts).

'You better be careful,' the driver said, his American drawl very prominent. Nathalie couldn't help but think that, if she was at home, his accent would probably be Cockney. She always associated taxi drivers with Cockney accents. 'Lots of animal attacks happening lately; and you live by the woods, ma'am,' he said, glancing at her, gauging her face. She didn't appear to be worried - in fact, apart from a curious glint in her eyes, she seemed rather impassive. Instead, she leaned forward in her seat.

'Animal attacks?' she enquired. This town, dangerous? She had learnt to take news reports with a pinch of salt, because half the time they were simply cover up stories of exaggerations of bogus stories anyway. Maybe once she was done with the house, she would go dig around.

The driver nodded. 'You be careful out there, ma'am,' he repeated, eyeing up the petite girl in his back seat warily - she looked like a prime target; small, unable to fight back. Slowly, he pulled up at a large, warehouse-like building with large windows and a huge selection of cars both inside and outside. Nathalie smiled kindly, pulling out a wad of American dollars and handing it to him. His eyes widened - she had overpaid by fifty dollars!

'Keep it,' she said, flippantly. He looked like he was going to have some sort of seizure - quickly, he stuttered out several words of thanks, fumbling to put the money in his pocket and he attempted to put his car into drive so he could turn and drive away before she changed her mind.

She climbed out of the car and gave him a smile.

'I think I'll be alright, but thank you for worrying.'

Nathalie slammed the door shut and walked towards the warehouse as the taxi driver zipped out of the facility, but not without casting the girl a curious glance. Weird one, that one, he decided.

* * *

><p>It didn't take long for her to buy a car after they noticed the cash that would allow for an upfront payment. It wasn't anything special - a Vauxhall Corsa - but it was new, shiny, black and looked pretty sleek. Nathalie was happy. It does the job well, she decided. Plus, it was very close to the door.<p>

After haphazardly pulling the car into some alleyway, she spent a good half an hour casting Undetectable Extension Charms in the boot and trying to drive on the other (wrong) side of the road. Eventually, though, she had made it to a shopping centre in the next town over, with a Target and an IKEA down the road from that.

She spent an extremely unhealthy amount of time in IKEA, buying almost any kind of furniture she could think of. The majority of it was wooden, in warm colours - just to remind herself of the Gryffindor common room. After managing to stuff as much as possible into her car and organising the larger things to be shipped so people would stop looking at her weirdly, she made her way to Target to get the littler things.

She wanted red accents in her home - maybe red bowls? Red rugs? A lot of her things at home were white at the moment - her new furniture was a warm, mahogany brown and red would be a lovely, bright colour to balance it out. She could hear the cogs turning in her brain when she felt her nose come into direct - and slightly painful contact - with something that felt like a chest. Somewhat soft, yet solid and powerful. She bounced back in surprise, barely noticing the flannel shirt on the man she ran into and his flustered apologies as she groaned at the sudden pain in her nose.

'I'm so sorry!' Nathalie finally heard the words that were being spoken to her.

'It's fine,' she said, although even to her it sounded a little muffled. She rubbed her nose gingerly and looked up - wow, alright, this brick wall of a bloke was pretty attractive.

'No, really,' he said, his face slightly ashamed, 'I wasn't looking where I was going-'

'It's fine,' Nathalie said more forcefully, cutting him off and shooting him a charming smile. 'I wasn't looking where I was going either.'

He coughed, unused to feeling uncomfortable around pretty women. His werewolf side usually ensured a sense of power and dominance - in front of this particular young lady, however, he felt cowed. She wasn't even particularly intimidating, standing at 5'2 at the very most with lazy clothes and a stick through the bun in her hair. Regardless, he shuffled his feet slightly uncomfortable, trying to find the courage to either walk away from their awkward encounter, or start a conversation.

'What's your name?' she asked brightly, brushing a stray lock of hair away from her fringe. His eyes zeroed in on a pale scar on her forehead. He saw it just for a moment, but he could swear that it was shaped like a lightning bolt - how on earth would someone get a scar like _that _on their forehead of all places?

'Mason Lockwood,' he replied, almost mechanically. He half expected a surprised look on her face - the expression he usually got when the estranged brother of the Mayor returned to Mystic Falls, but then he realised they weren't even in that town right now. Instead, she shot him a white-toothed grin and stuck her hand out for him to shake.

'Nathalie Potter.'

He felt the urge to repeat the name, see what it was like coming off the tongue. It was a nice name, flowed off the tongue well. Suited her. Quite ordinary - apart from the fact that she was very pretty indeed. Instead, he cleared his throat again, reaching up to rub the back of his neck in a nervous kind of way. He was still unsure as to why he hadn't walked away yet. He had been stressed lately, and for some reason, his inner wolf was feeling submissive in the presence of this woman (Mason would later claim that the reason why he didn't just walk away immediately as he usually would was due to this fact igniting his curiosity quite highly). She cocked her head at him, starting to sense he was hovering for a reason and her smile tightened just a little bit. It was getting awkward.

'So,' Nathalie started, 'Are you local?'

'Um, to Mystic Falls,' he started unsurely. 'I moved away about seven years ago.'

'Oh, I just moved to Mystic Falls,' Nathalie said, 'Seems quiet. What brought you back?'

Mason looked at her, eyebrows raised. Surely she knew of the events a few days ago? The accidental death of the town's Mayor is something even the most reclusive of town residents would of heard of, or so he thought. Nathalie seemed to sense that she had said something slightly wrong, and slowly raised her eyebrows to match the challenge.

'My brother,' he said. 'The Mayor of Mystic Falls died in a fire a few days ago, along with several other residents. I'm going back to the funeral.' Mason narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

Genuine surprise seemed to flash through her eyes. She shook her head, indicating that she had absolutely no idea.

'I only arrived at my new house last night,' she said quietly, slightly apologetic for prying. 'I'm actually only out to get things to furnish my house. I haven't been out and about yet, really.'

'What made you move?' he enquired, although he didn't feel right asking questions. Even with Katherine (he knew that Katherine hated when he asked questions), he felt more comfortable prying despite her immense strength than he did with this girl in front of him. Mason felt ever so slightly emasculated; she must be at least ten years his junior, dammit, and she wasn't a wolf, so why did he feel like her ranking was above his? By the sound of her accent, she was definitely a foreigner. She was wholly British - not a single American nuance could be found in her speech, so she was most likely not a distant relative of some kind.

'Oh, a change of pace and scenery I suppose,' she said airily, before she made the decision to change the subject. 'I feel like we got off to a slightly awkward start, seeing as I almost broke my nose on your chest.' They both chuckled. Nathalie stuck her hand out towards him. 'Hi, I'm Nathalie Potter. Let's discount this completely awkward conversation we've just had, yes?'

Slowly, he grasped her tiny, slender hand in his own larger one and gave it a tentative, yet firm, squeeze. 'Mason Lockwood.'

She grinned at him.

'Well, Mason Lockwood, I suppose I'll be seeing you around Mystic Falls, hmm?' she said, eyes twinkling under her simple, black-framed, rectangular glasses. She put her hand on his arm, giving him a light squeeze. 'I'm sorry about your brother.'

Nathalie turned away from the handsome man, giving him one last wave before she dashed off to look for the biggest shopping cart available in the store. She needed containers and household supplies - immediately. Maybe she would get Kreacher a new pillowcase, too?

She failed to notice the bewildered werewolf she had left behind in her excitement of buying knickknacks. She ambled along to the other side of the store, whilst he shook his head in confusion. He had only come to Target to pick up a few things for his stay in Mystic Falls - like shirts for the full moon nights - he didn't expect to have an encounter quite like that.

* * *

><p>Nathalie rested her head on her steering wheel, sighing as she did so. It had been a long day. She had spent a few more hours in Target, filling up her cart to precariously high levels and had pulled it to the other side of the carpark, in the shadows so she could chuck them into her car in peace. It was dark, now, and after realising she hadn't had anything to eat since Kreacher made her breakfast, she figured it might be a good idea to stop off for some food on her way home.<p>

She was parked outside an establishment called the Mystic Grill which she had come across on her drive to and from her house that morning. It seemed to be the only place she would be able to get some food in this little town. It best taste good, she was starving and she hadn't had time to go food shopping just yet. (She was actually fairly annoyed by this fact - half of the things she had planned to do this day didn't get done, because she ran out of time. Time management had never been her strong suit.)

She parked the car and got out, looking ever so slightly dishevelled. Her curls were falling out of her bun and her wand was slightly askew in her hair. Her shirt had stretched a little and her skinny jeans weren't quite as skinny anymore. Locking up, she walked into the place and was pleasantly surprised by what she saw.

It was fairly dark, but in a way that made the atmosphere more cosy; the place looked like it was lit by candles. Small tables and booths as well as a woodsy feel made it seem more appealing to Nathalie - she normally judged a restaurant at first glance by the customers that frequented it, although in Mystic Falls, this might not be the most accurate ways of judging the establishment as there's literally no other place for anyone to go.

Scanning the room, she spotted a booth in the far right and started weaving her way through the crowd. She managed to sit down just as someone else noticed the available seat, and grinned triumphantly in his direction as he scowled and turned away.

'Welcome to the Mystic Grill,' a kind voice said, and she looked up. Her server was a nice, harmless-looking blonde boy with a dimples and a cheeky smile. She couldn't help but grin back at him. 'I'm Matt. You new around here?'

Nathalie clicked on that she would probably be getting that question a lot. New faces were obviously a novelty in this town; putting a patient, kind smile on her face, she nodded. 'I moved into a house at the edge of the woods just yesterday,' she answered. A spark of recognition lit up in Matt's eyes.

'With the driveway off the main road?' he said. 'Never been up there. Is the house nice?'

Nathalie seemed to perk up. She was very excited about her new house, and was dying to get home to decorate it. She was just about to launch into a whole tirade about the beautiful garden and kitchen area, and how she was thinking of getting a few contractors in for a few minor adjustments and extensions when she realised that it would probably bore him silly, so she settled for an excited grin and enthusiastic nod instead. She didn't notice the flush of her cheeks and gleam of her eyes, but Matt certainly did. He grinned back at her and handed her a menu wordlessly; she took it gratefully, after asking for a coke with no ice or lemon and eventually settling for a Caesar Salad with chicken and a side of garlic shrimp. Waiting for her meal, she decided it was a foolish idea not to bring a book or something to amuse herself with. Instead, she chose to look around the restaurant. There were a lot of teenagers in here. Two men were sat at the bar, nursing what appeared to be straight bourbon. One was dark-haired, extremely pale and probably rather handsome, judging by the jawline Nathalie saw peeking out from under his hair. The other was sandy-haired, slightly chubbier but just as handsome, albeit in a slightly different way. At first glance, they didn't look like they would be friends - but who was Nathalie to judge? She was now friends with people she would never have associated with three or four years ago. Blaise and Draco, just as an example.

She was startled out of her thoughts when Matt put her plate down in front of her. She hadn't even noticed - Nathalie was getting complacent after the war. It would probably be a good idea to get her defences up again. One could never be too careful, after all.

'Enjoy your meal,' Matt said warmly, and Nathalie smiled back. She vaguely registered the feeling that she was being watched - glancing at the bar, it was the dark-haired man - he was staring at her with an intensity she had rarely seen in anyone's eyes, and for a moment, she had a feeling that she wasn't really welcome here.

Shaking the feeling off, she placed a smile on her face, focusing on Matt. 'Thank you, love,' she said. Her accent seemed to be thicker somehow, and he definitely noticed.

'You're from England, then?' it was more of a statement than a question, but she nodded anyway. 'Long way to come for a place like Mystic Falls.'

'Mm,' she mumbled. 'I actually bought a world map, and my friend threw a dart at it to see where I should go. It seemed as good of a place as any,' she replied, and he laughed heartily, shaking his head.

'Just wave me over if you need anything else,' he said, turning away as Nathalie tucked into her meal. It was alright. Nothing overly special, although it took less than ten minutes to get to her table so she couldn't expect Michelin-star meals within that kind of timeframe. Nathalie shook her head internally - she was an adult. She had to stop comparing all of her experiences and_ everything _with Hogwarts. Her reliance on that castle was still prominent, even though she had now left and it was now becoming more and more annoying the more she noticed this.

This time, she did notice when someone appeared in front of her. The dark-haired man slid into her booth, a charming smirk on his face that reminded Nathalie heavily of the signature Malfoy smirk. She raised an eyebrow.

'Damon Salvatore,' he said, sticking his hand out towards her. She had no doubt that that voice was designed to melt whichever female he was speaking to at that moment into a little puddle. It probably would have worked on her, too, if she wasn't feeling so suspicious. She couldn't remember the last time anyone approached her without some kind of motive that she wouldn't appreciate.

She took his hand. Nathalie felt a small shiver go down her spine and had the urge to reach for her wand - for what reason, she had no idea. What she did know, though, was that not everything is as it seemed with this man. She didn't feel uneasy around people for no reason. Her magic simply didn't allow it, and she trusted her instincts so much that it was almost a fault.

'Nathalie Potter,' she replied, voice perfectly even. He would have no idea that she had felt something off with him, not by her outside reaction.

'New to town?' he questioned, voice casual. Damon swung his arm over the booth, sliding back so that he looked unbelievably relaxed where he was. Nathalie smiled.

'You're the third one to ask me that today,' she said dryly. 'But yes, I am.'

'Only the third?' he said, eyes gleaming. 'I would have expected a lovely lady like yourself to get much more attention.'

She hummed, not taking her eyes off of his. He had rather lovely eyes - very bright, and completely out of place amongst his rather dark, gothic features. 'Charming,' she said shortly, an air of amusement in her voice.

His smirk simply widened and he shifted so he was resting his elbows on the table. 'Any reason for the move?' he said. Nathalie felt like he was staring into her soul, calculating her very existence and she fought the urge to shift uncomfortably and, again, reach for her wand.

'Not particularly,' she said. 'Change of scenery, you know.'

'No reason at all?' he pressed, and she glared lightly at him. She was beginning to get the distinct feeling that there was something going on in this town, and her brain pulled up the memory of the taxi driver informing her of the animal attacks, and Mason Lockwood coming back for the funeral of the Mayor and other town residents. It seemed like a lot of activity for what would appear to be a quiet, picturesque town. She opened her mouth to reply, when she was interrupted by the sandy-haired man from the bar.

'Damon!' he snapped, glaring at his friend before he turned to Nathalie apologetically. 'I'm sorry about him, he tends to bother anyone he finds remotely attractive.'

Nathalie smiled at him. She got quite a nice feeling from this man, actually. Maybe it was the genuine warmth in his eyes that put her at ease, but she waved off his apology anyway. 'It's alright,' she said as she reached to pick up her plate. 'I was just heading home anyway.'

It was a pretty pathetic lie, but she waved Matt over who, like Damon's friend, glared at him before looking at Nathalie expectantly. 'Could you doggy bag this for me, please? And fix up a Mystic Burger for me to go as well. Just the burger, though,' she said. Matt opened his mouth to object, glancing at Damon (who had his hands up defensively, his face a picture of innocence) but she pushed her plate more forcefully towards him, so he did as she asked and walked away.

'I'm Alaric,' Damon's friend said, holding his hand out to her. 'Alaric Saltzman.'

'Nathalie Potter,' she smiled, shaking his hand. 'Good to meet you.'

'Are you attending the school?' he asked. Nathalie looked young for her age; maybe it was due to her short stature, but even at nineteen she looked like she should be in school. 'I'm the History teacher there.'

Nathalie shook her head. 'I graduated a couple of years ago,' she said, and his eyebrows raised in surprise. 'You wouldn't want me in your class anyway, I'm awful at History.'

'Alright,' Alaric said. He wasn't sure what to say to that. He had fully been expecting to get s new student in his class after noticing her in her little booth.

It was slightly awkward until Matt came back a few minutes later with her meal as well as her requested burger in a separate bag.

'Now, are you feeding someone else, or are you just greedy?' Damon asked, his tone sarcastic. Nathalie narrowed her eyes at him, taking the bags more forcefully than she probably should have. 'Wouldn't you like to know?' she said calmly. She pulled a hundred dollar bill out of her pocket and handed it to Matt, who stared at it for just a moment. 'Keep it,' she said. 'Make sure you keep all of the tip to yourself, though.' She winked at him, as his jaw visibly dropped open.

She picked up her keys from the table and cast one last smile at Alaric and Matt before walking away, straight out the door. All three men noticed that she seemed to walk with a confident sashay of the hips, albeit quite subtly.

Damon cocked his head observing and made a move to get up, when Alaric pushed him back down into the seat with a glare. He opened his mouth to protest, but Alaric beat him to it.

'What the hell is wrong with you?' he berated. 'You can't just walk into a bar and interrogate teenage girls about their lives, Damon!'

'Am I not right to be curious?' he snapped in reply. 'Everyone who has come into this town has done something or other to make life difficult for us, and you expect me not to be suspicious of someone who just waltzes in because she feels like it? Mystic Falls is not a town that gets new residents regularly, in case you haven't noticed. And _what_ teenage girl can afford to give an eighty dollar tip like it's nothing?'

'In case you've forgotten, Damon, the person who started it all was _you,_' Alaric sniped. 'Mind your own business.' Damon stared daggers into his friend, but said nothing. Instead, he turned to the doorway and looked at the spot that Nathalie Potter had just walked out of, feeling completely curious about the newest addition to Mystic Falls.

* * *

><p>Nathalie slammed the passenger side door, after grabbing her food from the seat. She ambled up the few steps to her front door, fumbling with her (stupid) keys for a few minutes before she finally managed to jam the the right one into the lock.<p>

'Kreacher!' she said as she walked into the kitchen, and he appeared with a _crack!_.

'Mistress?' he croaked, and she handed him the burger. He grinned at her somewhat crookedly, grateful that she had brought him dinner.

'Could you please magic the goods from my car into the house at some point?' she asked kindly, and he nodded rapidly. 'No rush, though. I can't be bothered to organise everything just yet.'

'Kreacher will do it now, Mistress!' he said, happy to be of help. She laughed.

'Well, why don't you have some dinner first? And I need a list of things you would like for your cellar, too,' she added thoughtfully, and he cocked his head at her in confusion. 'Well,' she started, sensing his wordless question, 'I said you could have the cellar to do whatever you want with. Do you want anything for it? Blankets, a cupboard, a bed?'

Kreacher's jaw dropped open. 'A b-b-bed?' he stuttered. Even at Nathalie's crappy little flat in Devon, he slept in the cupboard. She hadn't ever offered him a bed before. She nodded at him, smiling.

'You can't exactly just pop to the shops, can you?' she laughed, thinking of what the reaction to Kreacher would be if he decided to go to Target. 'If you think of anything you want, I'll go get it for you. I got you a new pillowcase as well. It's green-'

She was cut off by the feeling of being very suddenly winded. The elf had launched himself at his Mistress, tackling her around the waist in his excitement. Fat tears were rolling down his face, wetting Nathalie's shirt and he was sniffling loudly. 'Mistress is too kind to Kreacher!' he wailed. 'A _bed!_' Mistress is offering Kreacher his own bed!'

Sighing slightly, Nathalie felt both warmed by Kreacher's extremely grateful reaction, yet slightly saddened. It didn't sit right with her that house elves were so grateful for things she deemed as every day essentials. Nathalie understood that he wanted to work, so she let him, but she felt bad that the thought of giving him a bed hadn't yet occurred to her before then just because he kept himself happy in a cupboard under the sink. It amazed her that, despite the way he treated her initially, his loyalty to her now was unparalleled to anything else just because she was kind to him.

She patted his head affectionately, and let him wail. Despite the interesting encounters she had with the townsfolk today, Nathalie was happy she decided to move. She was building a home not just for herself, but for Kreacher as well. After uprooting him from Grimmauld Place, she felt obligated to make sure he was settled again because he was definitely getting old now.

Maybe she would just duplicate the bed she got for the spare room, she thought. Another day out furniture shopping seemed tedious.

After a little while, she peeled him off of her and, together, they went and sat on the back porch, looking into the forest. She transfigured a couple of sticks into a few cushions and built a small pillow fort for herself and Kreacher to sit on with their food. Halfway through the meal, Camarin appeared, her fur seeming to be extra matted and her paws were ever so slightly muddy, a dead mouse clamped between her teeth (Lovely, Nathalie had said).

The three companions sat on the back porch for a while, simply relaxing and getting used to the new surroundings. Nathalie lay back and stared into the sky, tracing the Sirius constellation with her finger.

To her surprise, Nathalie realised that she felt content for the first time in a long while - even though she was so far from home.

* * *

><p><em>Merry Christmas! :)<em>

_The reception I've had from this story has been amazing. 141 follows in just over 1000 views is pretty great, and 89 favourites. So thank you very much, all of you! :D_

_My favourites are reviews, though._

_So, seeing as it's Christmas, maybe you could leave me one. ;D_

_They are completely motivational, after all!_

_Happy holidays everyone. :)_


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Vampire Diaries or Harry Potter.**

* * *

><p>If you fancy Kol Mikaelson as much as I do, then check out 'Fire in the Water: Kindling Fire' by Silhouettes of Starlight. It needs more readers and it's fabulous. xo<p>

* * *

><p>Stumbling through the forest, Caroline felt desperately confused. Her head was pounding, and her gums ached. Why did her gums, of all places, ache? One second she was with Tyler in the car, next second she was in a hospital bed and now she was in the forest after being smothered by her best friend who called herself Katherine and sucking on a bag of O negative. It was easy enough getting out of the hospital because the nurse did whatever she said - as soon as she walked out of the hospital, though, it was all too much and somehow, she ended up here. Why on earth would Elena feel the need to kill her? Surely their competitiveness didn't warrant murder.<p>

She didn't even register the various scrapes and bruises she was getting, which were healing far more rapidly than was completely natural and ignored the fact her bag was constantly getting caught in the branches. Instead, she just kept on going - where, she had absolutely no idea; she just needed to get the pain to stop. Elena's face flashed before her eyes, and she felt an unnatural anger at the girl. _She killed me_, Caroline thought. _She killed me_!

Without warning, she could smell the most wonderful scent which halted her train of thought most efficiently. She needed to consume it. For some reason, she knew that her survival depended on consuming this. Making a sharp left, she staggered towards it, speeding up and going as fast as her tired, aching legs would allow. She thought of nothing but the scent and, soon enough, she came to a break in the treeline. Caroline could see a house in the distance, with lights gleaming in the darkness and God, something in there smelled _amazing_.

She hovered at the treeline, staring at the house. She knew that this was out of the ordinary, that she shouldn't be so desperate to get to whatever was in that house, but Caroline didn't care. She wanted whatever was in that house, and the rational part of her brain knew it would be wrong to force her way into someone's home to retrieve whatever it was she could smell; the newly present, irrational side however seemed to overpower this and was tugging at her self-control. It was winning.

Caroline took a step forward. And another one, and another one - she was far enough out of the treeline to see everything clearly, but still hidden in the shadows.

She watched as a figure appeared from the doorway - it looked like she was standing at the back of the house, and was heading towards a Greenhouse to Caroline's right. She stepped back into the shadows cautiously, realising with a small pang of fear that she wished, more than anything, to eat the figure because that was what smelled so delicious. It was a brief feeling, that fear; it was quickly squashed by the overwhelming need to attack and, without a second thought, Caroline did exactly that. The muscles in her calves tensed only for a moment and she leaped towards the figure; her legs travelled faster than they had ever travelled before and in moments she was only feet away from her target.

* * *

><p>Nathalie stared down at the rigid figure lay before her, head tilted in thought. She was pretty, and blonde and would appear perfectly harmless and lovely if she didn't try to kill her the night before. And, yet, the protective barriers hadn't even alerted her of someone on her property. They were designed to keep those with ill-intentions out; this means that, even though this girl attacked her, she didn't enter the property with the intention of doing so. She sighed. What a conundrum.<p>

'Right,' she started, raising an eyebrow. 'I'm going to release you. If you attack me again, I'll stick you right back into this state until you've calmed down. Is that clear?'

She waited a moment for a response, before she rolled her eyes at herself. 'Right,' she muttered. 'I did a body-bind on you. You can't answer. Clever Nathalie.'

The girl's eyes darted back and forth desperately, and an idea struck the brunette. 'Move your eyes up and down if you understand.'

The girl did so, and Nathalie was appeased. She gave her wand a quick wave before tucking it back into the bun in her hair. She gasped and bolted upright at an unnatural speed, staring wide-eyed at Nathalie, who was stood rather calmly.

'Hey there,' Nathalie said, a crooked grin on her face.

'Where am I?' she gasped in response, fear in her eyes. 'Who are you?' She took in her surroundings; a large living room with a coal fireplace and plush, red, overstuffed sofas. She had been placed on a soft, dark brown fur rug that took up the middle of the room quite nicely. It appeared that she was simply in someone's home; nowhere overly scary or intimidating.

'You're in my house,' Nathalie confirmed. 'I had to invite you in; I imagine that you're a vampire?'

'What?' she stuttered. Who was this girl? How did she know? Her accent clearly meant that she wasn't from around here, and Caroline had never seen her before. She knew everyone in this town, and she'd never seen this girl before. Is she even right? Caroline had absolutely no idea.

'A new one?' It sounded more like a statement than a question, but Nathalie nodded to herself anyway and tilted her head once again. Her eyes held absolutely no fear; instead, a slightly morbid curiosity shone through her emerald-green eyes. She sat down on the rug next to the blonde girl, just a few feet away so she would have a _little_ time to react if the girl lost control again. 'I'm Nathalie.'

'Caroline.' The response was automatic.

'Nice to meet you,' Nathalie said, her crooked grin getting bigger. 'Are you alright?'

Caroline pondered for a moment. She had no idea. By God, she was hungry - and she ached - but was she okay? Probably not. She was probably going mad.

'I don't know,' she said. It wasn't an untruthful answer; in fact, it was entirely true.

'Alright,' Nathalie smiled. 'Well, what do you remember?'

She closed her eyes. It was at that moment that she realised she had a pounding headache. Thoughts came rushing back to her mind - memories she had previously had absolutely no recollection of. Damon's face. Elena. Katherine? The hospital. Finding the blood. Drinking the blood. _Enjoying_ the blood.

She couldn't help the tears that formed, and she shut her eyes, desperately trying to push them back but it was a fruitless effort. Within seconds, streams of what seemed to be endless tears were flowing down her face.

'Oh, love,' Nathalie said sympathetically, and Caroline looked at her. 'Kreacher!'

A loud crack echoed through the room, and Caroline shrieked in fright, shuffling back until she hit the wall trying to get away from the creature that popped out of thin air.

'Mistress,' he croaked, looking at the fearful blonde girl disdainfully.

'Get our guest here a handkerchief, please, and perhaps something to eat. I think there's some blood-pops in the loft,' Nathalie ordered, although her voice was kind. Kreacher grumbled under his breath, disliking the fact that he had to wait on someone else and disappeared with a crack.

'What is that?' Caroline breathed. The shock of seeing Kreacher appeared to have stemmed the flow of tears.

'A house-elf,' Nathalie said cheerfully. 'Lovely creatures. Absolutely nobody in the world more loyal than a house-elf.'

Kreacher reappeared next to Caroline, who shrieked again. He dropped a red handkerchief in front of her wordlessly, disappearing once more.

Cautiously, she picked up the handkerchief and dabbed at her face. She had been shocked into silence - so many emotions and questions were running through her body, she had no idea where to even begin.

'When were you turned?' Nathalie asked. Caroline couldn't understand why she was being so understanding, and so _calm_ about everything - surely a normal, human reaction would be to run far away into the hills, screaming bloody murder the whole time. It didn't make any sense that this girl was so nonchalant.

'Last night, I think,' she whispered.

Nathalie's eyebrows shot up in surprise. She had figured out that this was a new vampire - but _that_ new? 'No wonder you tried to eat me yesterday,' she joked, her tone light.

'I'm sorry,' Caroline sputtered. She truly didn't mean to attack the girl, but she just couldn't help herself. It was with some amazement and a considerable amount of mental strain and even physical pain that Caroline was managing to hold herself together now.

Nathalie waved her hands. 'Not to worry,' she said, chuckling. 'I know you didn't mean to. You wouldn't even be able to get onto the property if you meant to hurt me. Camarin would have been very unhappy with you too.'

'Camarin?' Caroline questioned. It was a moment before she tacked on another big question at the end. 'What are you?'

As if on cue, a large, matted white cat with black spots and a plumed tail stepped into the room. Her walk was almost regal, her tail raised high in the air whilst taking big steps and her gaze was locked onto the vampire who was currently curled up into a ball against the wall. It unnerved her; it was calculating, and seemed to look right into her soul. It was definitely not an expression normally found on the face of a cat.

'Camarin is my kneazle,' Nathalie said, waving towards the animal. 'They're very intelligent creatures, very good at detecting those with malicious intentions. And I'm not sure if I'm allowed to tell you what I am,' Nathalie paused for a moment. 'I suppose it would be alright, seeing as you're a vampire and everything.'

'What do you mean you're not allowed to tell me?' Caroline questioned, tearing her eyes away from the _kneazle_.

'My people have certain rules - laws - that I have to follow,' Nathalie shrugged. 'I don't see any harm in telling you, though. As long as you don't tell everyone.'

Caroline said nothing, choosing to continue inspecting the girl in front of her carefully. She realised that, in any other circumstance, she probably wouldn't like her very much. She was very pretty, pretty enough to make any girl envious of what seemed to be an effortless beauty and charm. And her eyes - they were big, framed with dark lashes and a bright, emerald green that she had never seen on anyone before. They were almost unnaturally green, and Caroline couldn't help the small bit of envy that creeped up. She normally liked her baby blues, but Nathalie's eyes made hers look.. Well, boring.

'I'm a witch,' she finished, a small smile on her face.

Caroline's eyes widened. 'No,' she said. 'You can't be - I know a witch. She doesn't use a stick to cast spells or use magic.'

'A _stick_?' Nathalie said, affronted. 'I'll have you know that this is a wand and it is my pride and joy, thank you very much.'

'But I know a witch,' Caroline repeated.

'A wiccan witch?' Nathalie said. She leaned forward, as if extremely interested in what Caroline was saying. 'That's very interesting. I've never met a wiccan witch before. Many people in my world say that the magic they practice is utter codswallop.'

'There's more than one kind?' Her head was swimming. So many new things were swirling in her brain, and she rubbed her temples in a futile attempt of pushing the thoughts away. New memories hadn't stopped attacking her the entire time she had been in the house, and she didn't want to think about them. She wanted to think about what this girl was telling her. There's more than one kind of witch.

A _crack!_ echoed through the room and, once again, Caroline shrieked. Kreacher had returned with a silver tray carrying a plate with a full English breakfast fry-up (fried eggs, buttered toast, bacon, grilled tomatoes, fried mushrooms, sausages, baked beans and hash browns) and a few blood-red lollies that smelled very appealing to her. He held out the tray towards her, not saying a word or making eye contact. Tentatively, she reached out and took the tray from him. It was obvious that he had put a fair amount of effort into her food, although she was unsure as to why Kreacher had decided to bring her breakfast in the evening. 'Thank you,' she said anyway, a small smile on her face. Kreacher looked at her then, eyeing her up carefully. He grunted in response before disappearing with another _crack!_.

Nathalie laughed. 'He likes you.'

Caroline turned to her, slightly surprised. She had gotten the vibe that he was actually very unhappy with her presence, but Nathalie's mirth simply continued. She figured it would be better not to ask; instead, to appease her gnawing hunger and aching gums, she delved into her meal. It took her but a few minutes to devour half of her meal and, to her surprise, it helped a little. She relaxed slightly, finishing it off. The room was quiet except for the sounds of her eating. Nathalie had said nothing the entire time. Surprisingly, the atmosphere was far from awkward - Caroline was the type that usually felt the need to fill up every moment of silence with chatter, but she didn't feel the need to with Nathalie. Instead of making conversation, the brunette had stood up and walked to a dark mahogany bookshelf against the wall of the room and pulled out three books, before returning to her spot on the carpet and flicking through the titles and keeping them open on certain pages.

Caroline finished the breakfast, before picking up one of the red lollies cautiously. 'Um,' she started, and Nathalie looked up.

'Blood lollipops!' she said happily. 'One of my friends gave them to me last Halloween. They're not my taste, but maybe you'll like them.'

'Blood lollipops,' Caroline repeated, eyes wide. What kind of morbid confectioner thinks of blood lollipops?

'Mmm,' Nathalie grinned. 'There's a shop called Honeydukes in England that sells all sorts of sweets. Try it.'

She eyed the lolly for another few moments, slowly unwrapping it. Caroline gave it an apprehensive lick, before her eyes lit up. It tasted wonderful. Sticking the lolly in her mouth, she groaned slightly. Her eyes, all of a sudden, felt sensitive. Warm. Reaching up, she touched the skin around her eyes and gasped, almost dropping the lolly from her mouth.

'Oh wow,' Nathalie breathed, inching slightly closer to Caroline and inspecting her face. 'I've never seen a vampire's true face before. You're quite terrifying, you know.'

Caroline's eyes stayed wide as she took in what Nathalie said. In the timespan of about forty-eight hours, her entire life had flipped upside-down. She was now a vampire who craved blood above everything else, and she was in a house with a complete stranger who had _blood lollipops_ in her attic and thought she was the most fascinating thing in the world.

What on earth had her life come to?

'Your clothes are filthy,' Nathalie said, looking at Caroline. 'Let's get you changed!'

Nathalie hopped up from her place on the floor and reached her hand out to Caroline. She eyed it, before grabbing it tentatively.

The girls smiled at each other, and Caroline felt the closest to alright since she had left that hospital.

* * *

><p>'I have a carnival to get to,' Caroline laughed slightly as Nathalie adjusted her scarf, patting it down. She still wasn't sure why she was being so nice.<p>

'Are you sure you'll be alright?' Nathalie asked, her brows creased in concern. It probably wasn't safe for a new vampire to go into a crowd that large, but Caroline was doing okay restraining herself around Nathalie and she knew she smelled more appealing than the average human being.

Caroline laughed and nodded.

'I'll be fine. I just need to do something to feel a little bit normal, you know?'

Nathalie hummed, eyeing up Caroline but she nodded anyway. 'Alright,' she said, before she pulled Caroline's phone off the table and started punching in numbers. She handed it back to the girl, who pocketed it. 'Give me a call if anything happens, alright? If you need anything.'

'Why are you being so nice to me?' she asked. Her tone was casual, light, inquisitive - but her eyes were slightly suspicious.

'Well, if you asked to become a vampire then you wouldn't be stumbling around my back garden, all confused, trying to eat me,' Nathalie chucked. 'You looked like you could use some help.'

It was quiet whilst Caroline took a moment to digest those words. A few seconds later, she broke into a face-splitting grin and grabbed Nathalie in a bone-crushing hug; she squeaked in surprise.

'Thank you,' she said softly.

Pulling away, Nathalie smiled. 'Kreacher!'

A loud _crack!_ echoed through the room, and Caroline winced at the harshness of the sound against her newly amplified hearing. The grumpy old elf had a sour expression on his face, although anyone familiar with him would be able to see the softer look in his eyes every time he looked at his master. Nevertheless, he was grumbling at the young vampire before him, who was trying very hard not to be offended by his cold demeanour.

'Could you take Caroline to the carnival, please? Make sure you're not seen by anyone, and come straight home after.'

'As you wish, Mistress. Anything to serve you,' Kreacher said, and his gaze turned to Caroline disdainfully. 'Even if Kreacher has to serve those of dirty blood-'

'Enough, Kreacher.' Nathalie said firmly, casting an apologetic look at the young vampire. 'Don't be rude in front of our guest.'

'Yes, Mistress,' he muttered, before holding his hand out towards Caroline. She looked at it distrustfully, looking at Nathalie for reassurance.

'You'll be alright,' Nathalie said cheerfully. 'It's quicker than running, and Kreacher is really very good. Make sure you call if anything happens though, alright?'

Caroline nodded as she slowly reached out to take Kreacher's hand. Getting impatient, he grabbed her wrist - eliciting a yelp of surprise from her - and disappeared with a loud _crack!_, taking the vampire with him.

Nathalie stood there for a moment, contemplating the events that had just taken place in her home. She still didn't understand why she felt a need to help the girl - perhaps it was just her hero complex kicking in, but she did seem quite nice (except for the 'I'm going to drain your body dry of blood' incident) and rather confused about her situation. It seemed to Nathalie that Caroline was a mere victim of circumstance, and she was starting to get the feeling that maybe this seemingly idyllic town wasn't so idyllic after all. Shrugging, she apparated with a small pop! Into her attic, having completely forgotten why she went outside in the first place. She picked up the book she had discarded on the desk earlier - _Transfiguration for the Ambitious Mind_ by Wesley Diggerton - and picked up where she left off.

_'Perhaps the most ambitious and complex form of transfiguration would involve the change of humans. Whilst a temporary change into an object or animal is usually achievable for a decently advanced wizard, the process of becoming Animagi is significantly more difficult and should not be attempted alone or by the faint-hearted. There are some specific steps required -'_

* * *

><p><em>Crack!<em>

Caroline registered the feeling of bile rising in her throat. For a few moments she felt like she was being squeezed through a tube, and the sensation was definitely not a pleasant one or one she would like to experience any time soon. She blinked and swallowed, trying to push the feeling back and shuddered when it lingered for just a moment longer. In the distance, she could see the carnival in full swing and she felt a hint of excitement at seeing Matt, as well as a twinge of nervousness at the state the event must be in if Elena and Bonnie had planned it. Something must be wrong, she just knew it. Nobody ever planned events right in this town.

Looking down, she realised she still had a hold of the little elf's hand. He still didn't look happy to be with her, but she smiled at him anyway. 'Thank you,' she said, her voice warm.

He narrowed his eyes suspiciously, and ignored the feeling of appreciation rising in his chest that came every time someone thanked him for his efforts. It seemed odd to him that a filthy creature like a vampire would be kind to him.

'Miss is too kind,' he grumbled, almost as a reaction to when people thank him. 'Kreacher's Mistress seems to like you, Miss, even with your dirty blood.'

Despite delivering an insult in possibly the most (forcibly) polite manner in history, it was still an insult and he was very surprised when she let out a laugh. 'I like her too,' she grinned. 'And I like you, Kreacher. You're funny. Even if you do look like a shrivelled old prune.'

Kreacher glared. 'Goodbye, Miss,' he said moodily. 'Mistress is expecting me home.'

Once again, he disappeared. Caroline shook her head amusedly before turning towards the carnival.

This could turn out interesting.

* * *

><p><em>The most important part when attempting to transfigure oneself into an animal is to clear the mind entirely. This is so that the mind of the animal that best reflects the soul of that wizard can find their place in the conscious mind, and it no longer exists purely subconsciously. This argued by some parties as the step that makes it most difficult for a person to become an Animagus - it is rare that someone who can control their mind so well also possesses the sufficient amount of dedication and skill in transfiguration required to complete the transformation successfully. It should be noted that those who can perform Legilimency andor Occlumency may have more success in this step than one who has not attempted either of those magicks._

'Mistress is trying again?' Kreacher said, eyes narrowed at Nathalie. She was stood in the middle of her attic, wearing her most comfortable slouchy clothes (a baggy white shirt with holes everywhere and her old, worn-out leggings from Quidditch practice), stretching out various muscles and cracking her knuckles in preparation for what she was, once again, attempting to do.

'Yes, Kreacher, and you're going to be here to make sure nothing goes wrong!'

Nathalie took a deep breath, standing completely still and blocking out every sense from her mind. Slowly, she began to clear it, the same way Professor Snape taught her to do back in fifth year. Even now, it was difficult. She supposed a mind like hers would never find it easy to be completely emptied and shut down; eventually, though, it worked.

_The second step is for the person to tap into their inner magic. This requires the person to locate their magical core - not physically, of course, but the caster needs to be able to take a hold of this magic in order to complete the transformation. In this step, Wizards who are familiar with wandless magic may find it easier as it requires the ability to harness the power found within each wizard without something to channel it - most commonly, a wand. There has been some debate between experts of Transfiguration as to whether young wizards with no magical training would find ease in this step, as the only way they know how to do magic is by taking power directly from the core of their being and channelling it through the mind. Once the wizard has found their inner magic, they need to grasp it - allow for it to consume them, until it takes hold of every fibre of their being, both inside and outside. The success of this step can be determined by an outsider - the wizard who has harnessed their inner power to this level will show physical signs of doing so._

She felt very warm. Every cell of her body was glowing and it felt like a warm presence had fallen into every nook, cranny and pore of her being. Distantly, she registered a faint, shocked, 'Mistress!' and couldn't help but grin slightly at her success. She had reached and surpassed this step in the past, however - Nathalie learned how to take control of her inner power several months prior, so she didn't let herself celebrate this small victory just yet even though, no matter how many times she did it, it was still very difficult.

_The third step is for the wizard to locate the animal within their minds. This is where the importance of the first step truly shines through. The mind is an incredibly complex arena, and shouldn't be delved into too deeply without extreme caution. They must dig through their own subconscious to find their soul animal. This is made more difficult by tenfold as wizards can never truly know what their animal is until after their first full, successful transformation - whilst experts have come up with various experiments and theories as to how to discover this within a wizard by delving into the deepest crevices of the mind (some experiments have thus far proved to be fairly successful), the wizard can only truly know through their own trial and error. Those who are not committed to becoming an animagus will always fail at this step. The art of delving through the mind is a test of willpower; those who do not want to reach the final result desperately enough will succumb to the temptation of sifting through their own memories. Barnaby Crud, a man attempting to become an animagus in the year 1742, spent so long sifting through his memories that he eventually passed of dehydration. This is another reason why the wizard attempting an animagus transformation needs to have someone else present at all times, so if they end up distracted then they won't be stuck in that state until their death._

Taking another deep breath, Nathalie began to dig. She had also surpassed this step - she was so close. She knew she had come a long way since she began trying to become an animagus, having failed at the last step for the last few months - today, though, she was determined to get it right. A year and a half had gone into this, and by Merlin if she wasn't successful soon then she may just drive herself insane.

It took another few minutes of passing by both lovely and painful memories that she finally located the presence. It was becoming much easier now - the first few times took several hours for Nathalie to locate the animal in her head, to the point where, when she finally snapped out of it, Kreacher was standing their with a manic look in his eyes. He had a frying pan in his bony hands, ready to smack her back into the real world if she stayed unresponsive for more than twelve hours. Without hesitation, she grabbed it - held the struggling presence in one place in her head, blocking it off so it couldn't escape.

_This step requires the wizard to force the animal into submission. This is the step where no guide can be written. This is a battle of the mind - the stronger mind will be able to force the weaker one to do it's bidding. Wizards should not fear, however; even if they lose the fight, there have been no recorded cases where the animal has taken control over the wizard for an extended period of time. The animal retains the brain function of an animal - they will not be able to function in the body of a human and will retreat back into the mind no matter what the outcome of the fight is. A loss on the wizard's part, however, means that they will not be able to transfigure into an animal._

Nathalie fought desperately to force the animal into submission. She had been successful several times, but quite frankly, this part of the process never failed to piss her off. She noted that each time she had to fight the presence, the time she spent doing it got shorter. It took almost no time for her to erect barriers around the creature, similar to the ones she builds whilst practicing Occlumency, forcing it still. She built chains around it, locking it down and holding it there until it no longer struggled against her grasp. It felt like it was looking at her, listening for a command and, slowly, she released the chains that held it.

_When submissive, the creature will look at it's master for guidance. The wizard needs to remember that this creature is the extension of their soul; it is causing no damage or harm to the creature if they are forced into submission. This step is the one that requires skill in transfiguration. Allow for the creature to take over; when the wizard establishes himself as the leader of the domain, they are in no danger of the creature taking over their minds forcibly. Instead, allow for that mind to flow into your own, taking as much space as it requires. Whilst it does this, focus more energy from the magical core around the body. A full-body transfiguration is only achievable when a sufficient amount of magic surrounds the user and allows for the creature to create their physical form out of the wizard's own. Ensure that the barrier of magic is also evenly distributed. A concentrated amount of magic in one area may allow for transfiguration in one area, and diluted magic can cause for no transfiguration or even deformed transformations to take place. Wizards should not be alarmed if only certain parts of their body change form during this process, especially before they master it._

And this is where the hard work begins. Nathalie grasped her inner magic, letting it flow over her like a warm body of water and tried to urge the creature to expand it's horizons and grow. Every time she had tried this in the past, it had lead to her growing some kind of talon, maybe a beak or dropping a large feather here and there. She was going to do it though, this time. This time.

* * *

><p>'Hello?'<p>

'I didn't know who else to call,' Caroline choked.

'Caroline? What happened?'

'I didn't mean to,' she said, her voice breaking as she forced back her sobs.

'Are you still at the carnival?'

'Yes. I didn't mean to,' she repeated. 'I didn't mean to, Nathalie! I don't know what to do,'

'Alright. I'm on my way.'

Caroline pocketed her phone, breathing deeply. She looked up; Damon was walking towards her. She felt something that felt almost like shame flood through her and she looked down, trying to avoid his eyes.

'He's dead. I killed him,' she said, and it was saying it out loud that brought on a feeling akin to a panic attack. 'What's wrong with me?'

'Hey,' Damon said softly, rubbing her arm. 'I can help you.'

'You can?' she looked at him hopefully, desperately. She knew in her mind that she shouldn't trust him, that Nathalie was on her way and that Nathalie might be able to help her just like she did earlier; but she needed help, and Damon was offering it.

'Yeah, I have to,' he confirmed, a genuine smile on his face.

'What are you gonna do?'

'The only thing I can do,' he said, brushing her hair out of her face. 'I'm gonna kill you.'

She had never felt dread wash over her that quickly in her life. 'Please don't!' she begged him, jumping to her feet. 'I don't want to die!'

'Yeah, but you're already dead.'

'No!' she tried to yell, but her voice seemed to croak instead. 'I'm not. Don't say that, okay? Just help me!'

'Okay,' he started, raising his hands in surrender.

'Okay? Please, please,' she begged him, glancing fearfully at the stake in his hand.

'Okay,' he pulled her into an embrace, slowly lifting his weapon into the air. 'It's the only way.'

It happened quickly; the stake seemed to fly out of his hands of it's own accord, whilst he was tackled by Stefan, pushing the dark-haired brother away from the baby vampire. 'Stefan!' he growled, as he took his place between Damon and Caroline.

Elena had also taken her place between the two. 'No!' Caroline yelled, pushing her away. 'Get away from me! You killed me!'

'No, no, no, no Caroline!' Elena said, startled and putting her hands in front of her defensively. 'That wasn't me, you know that. That was Katherine.'

'No!' Caroline's panic was steadily growing. She could feel the blood rushing to her eyes. 'Why did she look like you? Why, why did she do this to me?' Caroline wrapped her arms around herself, trying desperately to keep herself together.

'Stefan, we need to get her inside,' Elena said, noticing the blood around her mouth and her bloodshot eyes.

Stefan started making his way to the blonde, not once taking his eyes off his brother. 'It's okay, Caroline. Come with me.'

'She will die, Stefan,' Damon stated blankly, his face expressionless. 'It's only a matter of time.'

'Yeah, maybe so, but it's not gonna happen tonight,' he glared in response.

'Oh yeah it is,' Damon smirked. In a flash, he was inches away from stabbing someone in the chest with the stake; that someone turned out to be Elena who was standing in front of Caroline protectively, fear shining in her eyes despite the defiant look on her face.

'Damon, she's my friend,' she said stubbornly, refusing to budge as Damon hesitated in his attack. A few seconds passed and he dropped his arm, glaring at them all.

'Whatever happens, it's on you,' he hissed.

Elena, Stefan and Caroline turned to walk away, turning directly into Bonnie's line of sight.

'Caroline?' she breathed, disbelief laced in her voice as she noticed the blood-soaked face of her best friend staring back at her sadly.

'It's okay,' Stefan said, trying to reassure them all. 'Come on.'

'No, you're not. You can't be,' Bonnie whispered, rushing over and grabbing Caroline's arm tightly. She shuddered at the cold feeling of death that rushed through her body, and horror clouded her expression.

'Bonnie?' Caroline said softly, slowly reaching out towards her best friend who flinched and looked at the body behind them.

'Oh, god,' she gasped, noticing the carnival worker she had been getting friendly with not half an hour previous lying dead in a pool of his own blood, eyes staring blankly into the night sky.

Elena pushed Caroline into Stefan, urging them to walk away as she turned to comfort the witch, feeling desperately confused and scared about what had happened.

Neither teenager noticed a dark-haired, pale girl slip out of the shadows and follow the two vampires into the building.

* * *

><p>'She hates me,' Caroline sobbed, rubbing water on her cheeks to wash any of the evidence away. 'Bonnie hates me.'<p>

'No, she's just in shock,' Stefan tried to reassure her, rubbing away blood from her face as well. 'We all are.'

'And what about Matt?' she cried, her emotions once again overwhelming her delicate state of mind.

Stefan hushed her gently. 'One thing at a time. Let's get this blood cleaned off. Come on.'

'I'm a murderer,' she stuttered. 'I'm a monster!'

'Your emotions are heightened right now,' he said, rubbing the tissue on the corner of her mouth. 'It's part of the transformation. It's completely normal, I promise you, okay?'

She tried desperately to draw in a breath, looking at her reflection. All she could see were her eyes changing, once again, and her panic reached new heights. 'Why does this keep happening to my face!?' she screeched, her voice breaking. 'It's hideous- why-'

'Look at me, look at me!' Stefan's voice was raised as he grabbed her shoulders, shaking her so that she would look at him. 'Caroline, look at me. Look at my face. Look at my face!' His features changed, blood rushing to his eyes so that his face matched hers. 'You see that? When you feel the blood rushing, you tell yourself that you're going to get through it, that you're strong enough.'

Caroline was shaking her head, the flow of tears not once stopping.

'Yes, yes, no matter how good it feels to give yourself over to it, you bury it. Watch me, watch me,' he continued, shaking her a little more as she shook her head at him. His features changed back into his normal face. 'It's the only way you're gonna survive.'

She took a few deep, calming breaths - the tingle in her eyes began to recede somewhat, and the extra oxygen helped calm her frantic mind.

'That's good,' Stefan was quick to reassure her with exactly what she needed to hear. She felt a new sense of appreciation for the handsome vampire in that moment, and she calmed further.

'Why did Katherine do this to me?' she whispered, looking up at him.

He looked at her sadly. 'I don't know. I wish I did.' His eyes widened slightly when she continued to cry. 'Hey. I promise you, I will not let anything happen to you. Come here.' He pulled her into a hug and she rested her head against the crook of his elbow, trying to take a few deep breaths. Both of their heads snapped up in alarm when they heard a gentle knock on the door.

'Caroline?' a soft, feminine voice reached their ears. Stefan immediately went on alert, not recognising the voice. Caroline on the other hand sped towards the door, yanking it open and tackling the little figure stood there.

'Bloody hell!' Nathalie gasped, the wind knocked out of her completely. Caroline didn't let go. She sobbed into her shoulder as Nathalie wrapped her arms around the blonde tightly. Stefan couldn't help but be amused at the sight; the brunette seemed only to be about 5'1/5'2, whereas the blonde stood at a good 5'7. Still, he held back his chuckles and questions as he watched Caroline cry everything out.

'I'm sorry,' Caroline sniffed, pulling away.

Nathalie shrugged and gave her a warm smile. 'Cry all you want. This isn't a particularly nice shirt.' She was still wearing her battered, old, white shirt covered in holes. Caroline couldn't help but chuckle.

'This is Stefan,' she said, waving her hand towards the man leaning against the sink. (Nathalie didn't fail to notice the slightly tensed muscles in his arms, ready to pounce of the moment required it.) 'He's a vampire, too. He's going to help me.'

'Good,' Nathalie said cheerfully, sticking her hand out towards him. 'Pleasure to meet you. I'm Nathalie.'

'Pleasure,' he echoed back, taking her hand cautiously. 'How do you know Caroline?'

'She tried to eat me,' she said nonchalantly, a playful grin on her face. Caroline had the decency to look slightly ashamed, but Nathalie waved it off. 'We hit it off, didn't we, Caroline?'

She nodded enthusiastically.

'You know about vampires?' he said, disbelievingly. She seemed to be an ordinary human, minus her delectable scent and extremely calm demeanour.

'I've come across a few in my time,' Nathalie said, before turning to Caroline. 'Can you get home right now, Caroline? Don't you need an invitation?'

'I think so,' she said softly, her voice sad. Nathalie reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder reassuringly.

'Come back to my place for a bit if you want,' she offered. 'We can go back to yours in a bit.' Caroline said nothing, contemplating the idea.

Nathalie raised an eyebrow before she continued. 'I have hot chocolate and some bloody strong alcohol I guarantee will blow your head off,' she turned to Stefan. 'Alcohol helps the cravings, right?'

His brows furrowed at her, and he wondered exactly what she knew about vampires and how she had come across that knowledge. As well as that, he wondered whether he could trust Caroline with yet another stranger that had popped up in Mystic Falls out of nowhere. He voiced one of his concerns. 'How can I trust you with Caroline?' he said flatly, ignoring the shocked look Caroline threw at him.

'You can be the one to take her home later if you want,' she replied, a soft smile on her face.

The air was tense for a few seconds as Stefan seemed to stare her down. 'Fine,' he sighed and Caroline squealed, clapping her hands. (He had never noticed just how neurotic Caroline was until that day.)

'Great!' Nathalie chirped. 'Caroline can text you the address.' She grabbed a hold of Caroline's hand and pulled her out of the bathroom.

'Kreacher!'

Stefan heard a loud_ crack!_ that seemed to come from down the hall, and another one just a few moments later. He put his head round the door, and Caroline and Nathalie had disappeared.

He wasn't sure if his brow had ever furrowed quite this much in one day. Where the hell did they go? What the _hell_ is a Kreacher?

* * *

><p>'Wanna talk about it?' Nathalie said, digging through her cupboards as Caroline finished her hot chocolate which Kreacher cleared up without any hesitation much to Caroline's surprise.<p>

'Not really,' she said quietly. 'I don't want you to think of me any differently.' She wasn't sure why she valued Nathalie's opinion so much. They had barely known each other for a day, but she just seemed so nice and accepting and been so lovely to her when she was all confused that Caroline felt the need to build a friendship with the petite brunette that was brandishing an old-looking bottle labelled 'Ogden's Firewhiskey'. It was a warm brown colour, and Caroline couldn't help but eye it up suspiciously.

'Alright then,' Nathalie said, before she pulled out two glasses from the cupboard as well. 'I'm going to educate you on the wonders of Firewhiskey instead.'

'Firewhiskey,' Caroline repeated, not once taking her eyes off the bottle. 'Is that a good thing to feed a vampire?'

'No creature should be deprived of the joy that is Firewhiskey,' Nathalie said firmly, pouring out a generous amount into each tumbler and shoving it in Caroline's direction.

Caroline stared into the glass, taking a tentative sniff. It smelled hot. Was that even possible.

'Chug it,' Nathalie grinned evilly, before throwing back her own drink. Her face creased up as the hot liquid burned down her throat, but she didn't cough. Caroline did the same thing, except she coughed.

Flames shot out of her mouth towards Nathalie, who managed to duck just in time. Camarin, who had been lounging on the counter behind Nathalie, shot out of the room in surprise. Caroline's face was frozen in shock as Nathalie burst into laughter.

'Oh Merlin!' Nathalie snorted, tears running down her face. 'I love firewhiskey!'

'What the hell is that?!' Caroline screeched. 'Refill! Now!'

* * *

><p><em>Thank you for the completely overwhelming response to the story!<br>__With extra special thanks to all of my reviewers, because those are my favourites.  
><em>_Sorry the chapter's a little shorter than usual. :(  
>Let me know what you think anyway - <strong>please leave a review!<strong>_

_xo_


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or the Vampire Diaries.**

* * *

><p>Fred Weasley and creative OC lovers should definitely check out <strong>banshee-hime<strong>'s story called** Singed**. You won't regret it.

* * *

><p>A couple of hours had passed since Kreacher had apparated the girls home and Caroline and Nathalie were, quite simply, wasted. Two empty bottles of firewhiskey were on the table in front of them, having been shared out quite evenly between the two. Another bottle that had about three quarters left was next to the two empty ones. Caroline was more than capable of holding her alcohol now that she was a vampire – even though this stuff was significantly stronger than anything she had tried before – and Nathalie was more than happy to keep up with her after years of practice drinking firewhiskey with Fred and even Hermione and the girls. It was actually rather funny, the way that the girls were giggling about the fact that Camarin had wrapped herself around Nathalie's neck like a scarf.<p>

'She's so cute,' Caroline cooed, reaching her hand out to tickle the kneazle under her chin. Camarin stayed stock still for a few moments, before relaxing and releasing a sound that faintly resembled a purr. The vampire seemed to make Camarin a little uncomfortable, although she didn't seem overly alarmed in any way. Perhaps it was just the fact that a vampire is generally known as a dark creature.

Generally. If Camarin truly felt threatened by Caroline, everyone in town would have known it by now.

'So what else can you do? You know, apart from use a wand,' Caroline said, blinking to focus her vision on Nathalie. She shrugged in response.

'A lot of things. Give me an idea.'

'Do you fly on brooms?'

Nathalie nodded, and Caroline perked up, her eyes shimmering in excitement. '_Really?_' she said, astonished. After looking at Bonnie, she figured that witches were actually the complete opposite to everything she had ever learnt in fairytales. Now, she had come across a witch that was actually quite similar to the ones she grew up with! Apart from, you know, the green skin and boils and crooked nose. (It still bugged Caroline incessantly that Nathalie was so _damn_ pretty.) 'Is that how you all get around?'

'No,' Nathalie chuckled, reaching for the bottle and pouring more drink into both of their tumblers. 'There's portkeys, the floo network, several ways of flying-'

'Explain,' Caroline commanded. Her eyes had hardened in her curiosity, and a glimpse of the pre-transition Caroline shone through with her demanding ways. Nathalie laughed.

'A portkey is an object that has been charmed to transport one or more wizards to a specific location at a particular time, usually in the form of a piece of junk like a stick or an old boot so it doesn't attract the attention of Muggles-'

'What the heck is a _muggle_?' Caroline interrupted, and Nathalie's eyes flickered to the blonde for a moment.

'Non-magical beings, normal humans. Anyway,' Nathalie continued, 'We use the floo network, which is basically travelling through a fireplace with floo powder. You step in, say where you want to go and if they're connected to the network, then you can travel to that location.'

'Why can't we have that?' Caroline pouted, crossing her arms. Nathalie snickered, eyebrow raised.

'Have you forgotten that you're a vampire?'

'Right, point taken. You can fly without brooms?' Caroline was once again enraptured by the brunette witch sat next to her.

Nathalie nodded. 'Not just on our own though. Brooms are the most popular way of flying. There used to be more popular ways of flying, but they were banned in the U.K because they were classed as Muggle artefacts. Like flying carpets, or cars. My godfather had a flying motorbike.' The last statement caused Nathalie's eyes to glaze over slightly, reminiscing – she looked saddened for a moment, although it seemed to escape Caroline's notice.

'Those are real too?!' Caroline shrieked. This girl was turning more and more into a fairytale witch as the minutes go by! She never imagined that a flying carpet would be real. Flying cars, too? She'd love one of those.

'Yes, and they're legal in most countries around the world. Most commonly in Asia, I believe,' Nathalie nibbled on her thumb. 'Popular, too, if I remember right.'

'Popular enough to get into Muggle fairytales,' Caroline remarked, and Nathalie chuckled.

'Yes. Oh, and I can apparate too. It's-'

'What the hell is apparation?' Caroline interrupted (again). Nathalie glared at her slightly, and she leaned back into her seat in apprehension at the look the brunette was giving her. 'Sorry.'

'If you keep interrupting me then I probably won't tell you anything about my world,' she stated, eyebrow creeping further and further up her hairline.

'No!' Caroline said, whining ever so slightly. 'You can't tell me that there's so much more out there and not give me any details!'

'Then stop interrupting,' Nathalie stated. Her tone was firm, yet playful. Caroline noted that she should probably learn how to use that tone herself – might come in handy one day. 'As I was saying, I can apparate. It's basically teleportation. Like Kreacher does.' As she finished the sentence, Kreacher apparated into the room with a loud _crack!_, eyes curious.

'You can do that?' Caroline breathed.

'Mm,' Nathalie said. 'It's not very pleasant, though. It's like being squeezed through a really tight rubber tube.'

'Why don't you just travel like that all the time?'

She shrugged. 'It's difficult,' she said. 'It takes a huge amount of focus to do so. Kreacher practices a different strand of magic to me, he practices elf magic. He's much better at it than I am, so usually he takes me places, just like how he brought us home tonight. Plus, I have to know where I'm going. That usually means that I have to go there first. Kreacher doesn't need to know things like that.'

'Are there a lot of you?' she questioned.

'Well, there's magical communities all round the world,' Nathalie said. Her world geography and politics wasn't great, but she wasn't ignorant of the other magical dotted around the world. 'There are a good amount of witches in United States, although as far as I'm aware they're mainly present in Massachusetts here. The Salem Witches' Institute is there.'

'Salem is where Bonnie and her family came from,' Caroline said. At Nathalie's questioning look, she continued. 'Bonnie is my friend. She's a witch, too, but I think you called her a Wiccan?'

Nathalie nodded in understanding. 'Yeah. I'm no expert, but Wiccan witches are far more common in the U.S than my kind – whereas Wiccan witches are fairly limited in number in other places in the world. Salem is a pretty small school, many go to other places for their magical education.'

'So there's, like, witch schools everywhere?' Caroline said. Nathalie nodded.

'There's eleven in total. Scotland, France, Scandinavia, Japan, Russia, Africa. Obviously, the one in Salem and I can't remember where the others are. It's actually pretty rare for any of the schools to interact. It only happens once every few years.'

'What's the difference?' Caroline said, noticing that Nathalie was looking at her questioningly. 'Between you and the other witches.'

'Wiccans?' Caroline nodded. 'Well, I don't know much about Wiccans to be honest. From what I've read, they're basically Muggles that have a little bit more magical capability in them, but not quite enough to use it the same way we do, so they use what little they have to channel the magic around them.'

'I thought they channelled nature, or their ancestors,' Caroline's brows were furrowed.

Nathalie shook her head. 'I guess that's what they believe. There's magic all around us, though, and there's really only one kind. They just get it from a different source. I was born with magic, you see. And when I cast a spell or apparate or make a potion, for example, I'm using my own magic.'

'But what about the whole balancing nature thing?'

The witch chuckled. 'That's just a set of rules that were put forth to them a long time ago to prevent them from doing anything too outlandish. Many of the consequences they face from supposedly '_upsetting the balance_' is actually inflicted on themselves, _by_ themselves or their ancestors, because it's too big of a magical change to handle. These rules have just been exaggerated more and more as the years have gone on.'

Caroline thought about this for a minute. 'So, you're basically more powerful than they are, because you were born magic and you don't have those limitations.'

'We do have limitations, although they're mainly laws and then the general limits of any kind of magic – but yes, pretty much.'

Their tumblers were now empty, and Caroline reached over to fill them up again. Information and details that seemed insignificant to Nathalie were actually quite monumental for Caroline, and she needed a moment to let them sink in. She could clearly remember the feeling, when she was eleven, when she was told about the magical world. And the feeling that came with every new discovery she made about the world she had been born into, despite the fact she spent eleven years knowing nothing about it. The feeling of wonderment, of fascination and complete awe that any of these things were even real. Perhaps growing up in a Muggle household was quite beneficial towards her character; Nathalie knew that, if she had grown up in the magical community, she would never have seen self-washing pots or a Quick-Quotes Quill as anything special. She had something to compare all of these things to. So, she let Caroline stew in her thoughts, and before they knew it, the bottle was gone.

'So,' Caroline started, a cheeky grin working her way onto her face (it had taken a little while for her to gather the courage to ask this question), 'Can I see your broom?'

'Do you want to ride it?' Nathalie had a crooked grin on her face, eyes slightly glazed showing just how drunk she actually was. Her voice of reason chirped in protest in the back of her mind – it's never a good idea to go flying whilst intoxicated, but it was dark out and she was feeling reckless. She couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction when she saw the joy in Caroline's eyes.

'_Really?_' she gasped, clapping her hands together. 'You're serious!'

'I'm serious,' Nathalie affirmed, crooked grin still in place. '_Accio_ Firebolt.'

Something appeared to rustle upstairs, before a broom zipped into the room and Nathalie caught it, making sure not to hit any of the bottles off the table. She stood up, slightly shakily, broom clutched lovingly in her hands.

'Oh wow,' Caroline said, staring at the broom curiously. 'It's so sleek.'

'Were you expecting just a pile of twigs?' Nathalie laughed, looking at the lovely, tidy bristles of the broom. Caroline nodded. 'I lost this broom three years ago. It was a gift, for my thirteenth birthday. It was just a pile of twigs when I found it.'

Nathalie walked towards the front door, and Caroline followed behind wordlessly, too much in awe to really make a response. When she was on the patio, she turned to Caroline. 'This might feel a little weird.' She waved her wand over Caroline's head, who gasped when she felt the feeling of an egg being cracked over her head, the contents running down her face and body.

'What did you just do?!' she shrieked, reaching up to feel for the offending egg and finding nothing out of the ordinary. Her eyes were the size of saucepans when she noticed Nathalie beginning to distort before her eyes, seemingly blending into the background behind her. Caroline looked down at her hands and noticed that she was doing the same thing. She sputtered slightly in shock.

'Disillusionment charm,' Nathalie said flippantly. 'Makes you harder to see. Obviously, you're a vampire, so you'll be able to see me no matter what but this will hide us from prying Muggle eyes.'

Nathalie mounted her broom, gesturing to Caroline to do the same. 'Get on,' she said excitedly. 'Pretend you're on a motorbike. Make sure you hold on tight. Just don't, y'know, break my back or anything.' She seemed to realise at the last moment that Caroline could quite easily break her spine if she wasn't in her right mind – for example, panicking from zooming up into the air at high speeds.

She walked up to the broom and reluctantly put her leg over it, not quite sitting down but placing herself very close to Nathalie none-the-less. She held onto her waist as Nathalie pushed off from the ground and they hovered there for a minute as Caroline got her bearings.

'Ready?' Nathalie said. Her voice was laced with utter happiness, excitement and perhaps a slight drunken slur. Caroline was probably feeling brave because of the firewhiskey, but that didn't matter. She nodded anyway, ignoring the fact that her breath rate was speeding up rapidly.

Without further ado, they took off.

Nathalie took note that, next time she took someone on their first broom ride on a _Firebolt_ of all brooms, she should probably cast a silencing charm on her passenger as well. She wasn't sure whether her ears would ever recover from a scream that loud. She would later ask herself why she could even hear Caroline's scream at all – it was unbelievably loud and high pitched, and Nathalie was very surprised that it wasn't only in the hearing range of dogs.

* * *

><p>Stefan sighed.<p>

It had been a long night. Dealing with the body, Damon, the Lockwood mystery and (and this is the kicker) Caroline getting turned into a vampire, he was feeling an exhaustion that he wasn't sure whether was normal for a vampire. About half an hour ago, he had got a text from Caroline letting him know exactly where this Nathalie girl lived. It was full of typos, but Google Maps eventually helped him decipher the text.

He supposed that Caroline had taken Nathalie up on the offer of alcohol.

Walking towards the gate, he pressed the buzzer and rocked on the balls of his feet as he waited for an answer. A few minutes passed, and no response came – he repeated the process a couple of times until he had enough. Rolling his eyes, he opened the gate and stepped through. It felt strange – like walking under a very, very light shower of extremely cold water – but he shook off the feeling and started making his way up the driveway. Straining his ears, Stefan tried to listen to any conversation in the house. Apart from the occasional shuffle, he heard nothing. Surely, if there was more than one person in there, he would hear more than just the occasional shuffle?

He narrowed his eyes, every possible scenario running through his head. Perhaps he was wrong to trust the new stranger just because Caroline did. Stefan knew of her nature; she was many things, but naïve was probably Caroline's most prominent trait. Without a moment's hesitation, he flashed towards the front door. As soon as he stopped, he heard a loud hiss and jumped in surprise – there, in the shadows, a pair of glowing, yellow eyes were staring at him. He couldn't help but stare back, enraptured in the gaze. It was completely unnerving, seemingly staring into his soul and Stefan felt the urge to flinch. Perhaps what was making him most uncomfortable was that he could literally _only_ see the eyes – that was completely creepy in itself.

'Stefan?'

He whirled back in surprise. Two very windswept looking girls were standing behind him. He was sure they weren't there moments ago – he would have heard their heartbeats – yet, here they were. Caroline was wearing the clothes from earlier, a healthy flush in her cheeks and her usual curls ruffled in kind of an endearing way. Nathalie was also in the same attire as before, her longer hair appearing more tangled but still looking like it was _supposed_ to be like that. She, too, had a healthy flush to her face and both girls appeared exceptionally healthy and cheerful, much to Stefan's relief. His eyes focused on the broom in Nathalie's petite hands. It looked very shiny, very well kept, especially for an object designed to sweep up dirt. It did, however, look insignificant enough – he decided he should probably keep his focus on the reason why he came in the first place, which was to take Caroline home.

The silence was awkward, though. It was the kind of quiet where in the movies, a bit of tumbleweed would roll across the screen and it lasted for a good few minutes before the silence was broken.

'Stefan,' Caroline repeated, looking cautiously at the jumpy vampire. (Were vampires even supposed to jump?)

'Caroline,' he said in response, almost automatically. He felt like smacking himself upside the head when he said that, realising that it was a completely pointless greeting seeing as they had been staring at each other for several minutes prior. 'I've, um, come to take you home.'

'Oh!' Caroline jumped. Apparently she had entirely forgotten that she had to go home and compel her mother to let her in at some point. She had been enjoying herself a lot with Nathalie – drinking, learning about Nathalie's world, letting out her worries and going for a _fly_. What seventeen year old in Mystic Falls can say that, to unwind, they went for a_ fly_ around town? After the first minute of sheer terror, she had actually enjoyed the ride a lot. Maybe it was the speed of the broom or the fact she was flying several hundred feet above the ground with absolutely nothing stopping her from falling off and going splat on the ground apart from a miniature woman and a stick giving her a huge adrenaline rush, but it actually turned out to be a lot of fun. 'Right, okay. Are we going now?'

'If you're happy to,' Stefan said, looking at Nathalie cautiously. She hadn't said anything since he had appeared at her doorstep. She seemed quite calm – the fly had certainly sobered her up and she was feeling relatively normal apart from the headache building in the temple and the general 'off' feeling that indicated a hangover creeping up on her. He wouldn't of noticed those feelings, though, so to him, she just seemed like a fairly intimidating nineteen year old girl that was staring him down.

'Yes, yes,' Caroline said. The awkwardness was making her feel flustered. Turning around quickly, she grabbed Nathalie in a hug. She felt arms wrap around her waist after just a moment of surprise, and she gave the witch a small squeeze. 'Thanks for having me, Nat. And for looking after me.'

'No problem,' Nathalie grinned warmly. 'You're welcome any time. Drop by soon, okay? You still have my number, yes?'

Caroline nodded. 'I'll text you; we'll do something soon. Maybe Stefan can come!' she turned to him expectantly. Somehow, he didn't seem to like the idea of spending the day with the two girls, but Caroline decided that could be remedied. He looked at Nathalie apprehensively, debating what the correct answer to that statement would be. Despite feeling like her emerald-green eyes were staring into his soul, he found no ill-intent, dislike or discomfort in them. She didn't seem overly bothered by his presence, so he nodded and shot them both a smile. Caroline squealed, clapping her hands whilst Nathalie laughed at the over-enthusiastic blonde. She could always appreciate someone who was enthusiastic. Enthusiasm was definitely one of Caroline's more prominent traits; she couldn't help but be amused around the blonde, even finding herself fairly _happy_ around her. The brunette often found herself content with her life after the chaos she lived through for seventeen years, but actual happiness was a difficult emotion to achieve. Caroline was like a ball of sunshine and fresh air, which she appreciated greatly.

'I'd like that,' Nathalie said, shooting Stefan a quick smile. 'Call me if you need any help with anything, alright?'

As the girls embraced once again and said another goodbye, Stefan couldn't help but wonder to himself _how_ exactly this girl would be able to help a baby vampire without getting herself killed as, in his experience, most people who 'helped' newborns were helping by providing a long and satisfying meal. He was miles away when Caroline turned to him expectantly, waiting for him to say goodbye and leave with her.

'I'll see you another time, Nathalie. It was nice to meet you,' he said, the corner of his mouth quirking up into a small (reluctant) smile. He got one back, except her expression appeared far happier and lit up her face, despite the lack of light around them.

'You too, Stefan,' she said. To his surprise, she walked towards him and gave him a quick hug. Her scent - that close to him - caught him entirely off guard. He fought to keep his true face in check, his inner vampire jumping for joy at just how delicious this girl smelled. Definitely abnormally delicious for a regular human. By the time he had registered what had happened though, she had already pulled away and had, once again, turned to the blonde. 'Text me when you've got yourself inside, alright?'

Once again, Caroline nodded. Giving Nathalie one last smile, she held her hand out to Stefan who took it. Both of them sped off home as Nathalie watched them from her spot on the patio. Camarin, who had been observing the whole exchange, slinked out from under the shadows. With a noise similar to a purr, she wrapped herself around Nathalie's legs, rubbing his cheek on her shins. She smiled, picking her up and holding Camarin comfortably in her arms. Turning to walk into the house, she waved her wand at the direction of the broom, which zipped back into the house and returned to it's rightful home before it was summoned to her. Not once ceasing the tickles on Camarin's content belly, Nathalie made her way through the house, thinking over the events of the day and contemplating just how interesting Mystic Falls was turning out to be.

* * *

><p>'You had a good time, then?' Stefan asked, glancing at Caroline in the passenger seat. She was bobbing her head to the music, rather enthusiastically and he was trying to contain his chuckle.<p>

For someone who had made her first kill not six hours ago, she seemed quite cheerful.

'Nathalie's great,' Caroline said happily. 'She has this _insane_ whiskey. Stefan, you'd love it. You like whiskey, don't you?'

'I do like whiskey,' he said. How much had she actually had? He knew that it took much more for a vampire to get drunk than an average human being. She must have had a good amount for her to be this joyful.

'Oh, you'd _love_ this one. It's like breathing fire. Except, you know, you're a vampire so maybe you wouldn't like it, but I like it. And it's so cool! I bet you've never had it before. It's called Odgen's Firewhiskey, something like that. I think, anyway. Oh, you have to try it sometime. She never told me where she actually got that stuff from. I'll have to ask her tomorrow,' Caroline babbled.

Stefan chuckled. 'If you remember to ask her tomorrow, that is.'

'I will!' she protested, voice indignant. 'I'm not that drunk, you know.'

'So you say.'

She huffed in response, crossing her arms. Instead of bobbing her head to the tune on the radio, she started tapping her foot instead. Stefan had a slightly cheeky smirk on his face that was just succeeding in aggravating her more.

'I won't be able to go outside tomorrow, will I?' she said quietly. All of a sudden, the light hearted mood in the car darkened. He could feel her distress about being cut off from the outside world, having been born and raised a social butterfly and thriving being around people.

'No,' he said shortly. Stefan hated to be the bearer of bad news – he had to reaffirm it for her, though. She sighed.

'I don't suppose Bonnie will want to make me a ring either,' she said sadly, turning her head to look out the window. For a moment, she found herself enjoying the view because of her enhanced vision. Normally, she wouldn't be able to see a metre out of the car in the dark. One of the perks, she supposed. 'She doesn't seem to like me very much now.'

'Bonnie will come around,' he said firmly, turning the corner towards Caroline's house. 'She's your best friend, I don't think she'll let that go because of something that wasn't your fault.'

'Yes, but she's a witch now,' Caroline said bitterly. 'Because witches are _apparently_ in charge and now I'm the worst, most despicable creature to have ever walked this earth.'

'You're not,' Stefan said. Even to his ears, this protest sounded feeble – he, himself, knew how it felt to think of himself as a foul, wrong being that didn't belong on the spectrum of what was natural. He did believe, wholeheartedly, however that Caroline was a bright, happy girl that would make it as a vampire if she went down the right path. At that moment, he decided that he would help her in a way that he wished someone would have helped him when he had first turned. 'I'm going to be teaching you how to hunt.'

'What, so I'm on the vampire vegan diet now?' Caroline joked. Her vampire instincts were protesting at the thought of living off bunnies for the rest of her eternal life. A part of her felt more guilty hunting animals than humans. They were, after all, much cuter. Much more adorable.

'Yes,' he nodded. Caroline groaned, but leaned back in defeat regardless.

'When?'

'Soon.'

'Can Nathalie come?' she said, after a moment of quiet. It was slightly hesitant.

'What?' Stefan said, surprised. 'Why would you want Nathalie to come?' He couldn't find it in him to understand why Caroline would want to expose the girl to such a dangerous environment. A vampire in hunting mode, especially a new vampire with little to no control, would be completely unable to stop themselves from killing whatever was in their path regardless of the emotional attachment to them. Nathalie would be fresh bait for Caroline. Why on _earth_ would she want Nathalie there?

'She can look after herself, and I like her,' Caroline said simply, shrugging.

'What's up with that girl, anyway?' he said suspiciously. They had pulled up in front of Caroline's home now. There was still a light on, so Sheriff Forbes was obviously home. 'Is she a hunter, or something? She could be dangerous, Caroline.'

'You're right, she is dangerous,' she replied. Stefan's eyebrows rose in surprise as he took in Caroline's expression – it wasn't in her usual nature to be this serious about anything, but she looked confident in her words. She stared directly into his eyes. 'But I like her, and I don't think she's a threat to anyone. As for '_what's up with that girl_'-' Caroline rolled her eyes, 'she has a name, by the way – you should ask her yourself. She's really nice. Honestly.'

Stefan narrowed his eyes. 'The great gossip of Mystic Falls isn't spilling secrets?' he gasped sarcastically. 'Vampirism has changed you.'

Caroline's eyebrows furrowed, missing the joke. 'You trusted her enough to let her look after me tonight. If you want to know anything about her, then maybe you should ask her yourself.' She unbuckled her seatbelt and turned towards the door. 'Thank you for the ride home, Stefan.'

He was surprised by her reaction. She seemed a little annoyed with him for asking about Nathalie, very defensive indeed. He decided that maybe he shouldn't prod Caroline for answers right at this moment – her neurotic tendencies were amplified, after all – and settled for handing over a black duffel bag to her instead when she looked at him questioningly.

'There's some blood bags in here. Just in case.'

She looked at him for a minute, before nodding. Caroline shot him a small half-smile, taking the bag and stepping out of the car and walking up the path to her front door. As he drove off, she took a deep breath and rung the doorbell.

'Caroline?' Liz chided, answering the door. She was in her nightwear. This was a little strange in itself, Caroline wasn't used to seeing her in anything but her work uniform. 'Where on earth have you been?'

'_You're going to invite me in_,' Caroline compelled, hoping to every higher power above that her mother wasn't using any vervain. '_And when you've invited me in, you're going to go to bed and forget that I ever asked you this question. You'll think that I went to Elena's house and came home a little late, and that nothing is wrong_.'

'Why don't you come in, sweetheart?' Liz smiled, her annoyed expression disappearing. Caroline nodded, making her way into the house. 'Did you have a nice time at Elena's?'

She smiled at her mother, putting her acting skills to the test. Her mother looked so happy to see her home and had gone to get Caroline a glass of water, like absolutely nothing was wrong. Like her daughter hadn't just taken away her free will, lied to her and also been turned into a creature that would make her skin crawl if she only knew the truth.

She couldn't help the stab of guilt that pierced her heart, tearing through her body like a tidal wave.

* * *

><p>Stefan slammed the car door shut as he pulled up to the boarding house, dreading facing Damon somewhat. A part of him wanted to simply speed up to his bedroom and avoid any confrontation with him, although the rational side simply shot down that idea with an, 'Oh, he'll come find you anyway.'<p>

He sighed.

'And so the prodigal son returns!' Damon sang. 'Had a good night looking after your beloved Elena and new protégé?'

'Shut up, Damon,' he said wearily, making a beeline for the alcohol. 'There's enough to think about without dealing with your crap tonight.'

'Ah, yes,' Damon nodded. 'Like the Lockwood mystery.'

'That,' Stefan agreed, 'But there might be something else.'

'Elena broke a nail, maybe!?' Damon gasped dramatically, falling onto the sofa. 'Whatever shall we do?!'

'No,' Stefan snapped. 'Something else. Have you heard about that new girl in town?'

Damon seemed to sober up slightly. 'Might have come across her. Why?'

'She knows about vampires,' he replied thoughtfully, swirling his whiskey around his tumbler and ignoring Damon's frown. 'Caroline went to her place tonight.'

'I knew there was something off about her,' Damon said, brows creased in thought.

'You met her?'

'Bumped into her at the Grill with Ric. She gave Matt an eighty-dollar tip, for God's sake. Weird, I tell you.'

'There is something a little off about her,' Stefan was contemplating everything he knew about Nathalie thus far. 'Caroline said she's dangerous, so obviously she knows something.'

Damon rolled his eyes. 'And _Caroline_ didn't tell you? Dude, if there's anything about that girl that stands out is that she cannot keep her mouth shut to save her life.'

'She did about this,' Stefan said firmly. 'She wouldn't say a word about Nathalie Potter. Told me to ask her myself.'

'Tried that,' he said. 'Shot me down.'

Stefan's lip quirked up into a wry half-smile. 'Maybe you're not as charming as you think.'

'Why do you hurt me?' Damon shot back sarcastically, chugging back the rest of his bourbon. 'Don't think she lives alone, either. She had two meals with her when she left the Grill.'

'I didn't see anything when I went to pick up Caroline. And she didn't mention anyone else,' Stefan paused. 'Got a creepy cat, though. But you might be right, I heard shuffling inside the house.'

'Kill her and be done with it,' Damon shrugged. 'We have a bigger problem to deal with. Like Mason Lockwood, and we can get Ric to come round in the morning so we can bug him about it.'

Stefan frowned as Damon stood up and left the room, ending the conversation there. Somehow he felt like killing Nathalie Potter would be a mistake as well as being wrong; she seemed to be quite an enigma, and his gut instinct was telling him that, if he caused her any harm, it would come back and bite him in the ass.

Hard.

* * *

><p>Nathalie pulled the curtains shut as Caroline sat quietly on her bed.<p>

'Can't you make a daylight ring?' she said sadly, staring at Nathalie with a glimmer of hope in her eyes.

'I had no idea they even existed until you called me about it,' Nathalie said calmly, sympathetically. 'I'm sorry, Caroline.'

'I guess I'll have to rely on Bonnie, then,' she sighed, leaning her head back. 'I really want to go spend the day with Matt.'

Nathalie couldn't help but laugh. 'Of all things you're worried about, you're worried about spending the day with your boyfriend?'

'Hey!' Caroline snapped, causing Nathalie to raise her hands defensively (whilst still chuckling under her breath). 'It's important, you know!'

'I know, I know,' her mouth quirked into a smile, 'It's sweet.'

Caroline huffed. 'Maybe to you.'

'Stefan will convince your friend to make your ring. I mean, she's been your friend for years, and she'd be a bloody awful one if she abandoned you over something you had no control over,' she said, before frowning. 'Unless Wiccans truly are as judgy as everyone in my world says.'

'They are,' Caroline confirmed, her tone quiet. Nathalie tilted her head sympathetically at the blonde.

'Hey, it's not all flowers and rainbows in my world either. Halfbreeds aren't looked at with a very sympathetic eye.'

Caroline was just about to enquire what exactly a half-breed was, when her phone rang on her bedside table.

_Caller ID – Stefan._

She reached for the phone, directing her first statement at Nathalie as she rolled her eyes. 'Speak of the devil and he shall appear. You need to convince Bonnie to make me a daylight ring,' she said immediately, clutching the phone a little tighter than she probably should.

Stefan sighed on the other end. 'I'm working on it, I'm just going to see Elena off and I'm meeting Bonnie at the Grill after.'

'Where's she going?' Caroline said, unaware that she had any plans. She was wondering why the friend that _shouldn't_ have a problem with her being a vampire hadn't come to visit.

'She's going to Duke with Damon.'

Caroline waited for a moment for Stefan to expand, but he didn't. 'Um, why?'

He didn't reply immediately, and the quietness was tense. 'Damon and I don't think that Mayor Lockwood was killed by accident. He was affected by the Gilbert device, but he's not vampire.'

'O-kay,' she said slowly, still not understanding. 'And this has to do with Duke – and Elena and Damon going away _together_ even though he was a jerk to me and she's supposed to be my best friend who's on my side – how?'

'Alaric's wife – Elena's mom – studied Mystic Falls for years,' he started. Caroline could almost picture him pinching his nose as they spoke. 'We think that the answers we need might be in her research somewhere.'

'And you're here because you're babysitting me,' she said bluntly, rolling her eyes. 'You know, Nathalie can look after me, you don't have to stay here if you don't want to.'

'Caroline, it's not like that,' Stefan groaned, although he couldn't deny that his main reason for staying was because he needed to watch her. 'I'm happy to stay here.'

'Don't lie to me Stefan. Nathalie's here anyway.'

'No, it's fi-'

She cut him off. 'Any ideas on what the Lockwood's might be?'

'Alaric says that Isobel studied the lycanthrope as well as vampires.'

Caroline gasped. 'What, like – as in, werewolves?'

At this point, Nathalie went from waiting patiently for Caroline to finish her conversation to listening attentively at every word being said (at least, on Caroline's side). Her sudden interest didn't go unnoticed by the blonde.

'Yes,' Stefan said. 'We just need to see if there's actually any truth to it, seeing as Isobel mainly studied folklore.'

She rolled her eyes. 'Well, vampires were supposedly folklore yet here we are,' she said dryly. 'Do you need someone to pick you up from Elena's?'

'No, I was just going to walk-'

'That'll take too long,' she interrupted again. 'I need this ring as soon as possible. Nathalie can pick you up from Elena's and drive you over, I think she was going soon anyway.' Caroline's eyes shot to Nathalie for confirmation, who shrugged in response. She didn't mind.

'Caroline,' Stefan sighed.

'_Stefan_!' Caroline retorted. 'Just convince Bonnie with your broody, sympathy-inspiring face to make me a daylight ring and then I can go live my life as normal.'

Caroline hung up, rubbing her eyes. This was far more stressful than anything she had ever had to deal with.

'Mason Lockwood?' Nathalie enquired, eyes curious.

The blonde turned to her in surprise. 'You know him?'

'I bumped into him at Target a few days ago. Did you say that Stefan thinks he's a werewolf?'

'Yeah. Damon and Elena are going to Duke to do some research about it today apparently. You don't mind picking him up from Elena's, do you? I really need to go out.'

'It's fine with me,' Nathalie shrugged again. 'So, a werewolf, huh?'

'Could that actually be true?' Caroline enquired, feeling slightly scared and even more so when she looked at Nathalie's knowing grin.

'Well, werewolves are real.'

'No,' Caroline breathed. '_Seriously_? Are they dangerous?'

'Extremely,' Nathalie nodded, 'But only on the full moon. And, for future reference, I suppose I'd better tell you that almost any creature you've heard of in your fairytales, and more, are most likely real.'

'Even fairies? Mermaids, dragons?' she said dryly. Her eyes widened as Nathalie smirked, amused. '_Really_!? Dragons!?'

'Yes,' she nodded. 'All of those things are real. Mermaids aren't very pretty, though. The legends have somewhat warped the perception of mermaids a little. Anyway, you wanted me to pick up Stefan from Elena's?'

Nathalie snickered as she waited for Caroline to give her the address. Her departure was delayed by a good ten minutes due to Caroline's shocked stupor and consequently very excited questions about what else could be real.

* * *

><p>A short time later, Nathalie pulled up outside Elena's home just as two pretty women, one brunette and one with dark blonde hair, walked towards Damon followed closely by Stefan and Alaric. She noticed wryly that this was the suspicious one she had met at the Mystic Grill not forty-eight hours ago, and gave an internal jump for joy.<p>

As she parked behind Damon's car, she got the attention of the group. Before she got out, she pulled on her shoes - they were a black, round-toe stiletto heel boot with silver buckles.

She could barely drive in heels on the correct side of the car. She had no chance when her driving in America was ropey enough as it was.

Her outfit consisted of a pair of dark high-waisted, skin tight jeans that accentuated her subtle pear-shaped waist and thighs and a black, rollover neck, sleeveless tank. She had all of her ear piercings in, wearing silver jewellery that accentuated the silver accents on her shoes and bag, which hung down from her shoulder to her waist. Her make up was simple, a subtle brown smoky eye with a translucent pink lip balm. Her long, dark hair fell in it's usual messy, beach curls over her shoulder. Her wand was tucked safely into her boot, ready to be wielded if any occasion should call for it. She knew she looked good today - apparently she wasn't the one who noticed.

The men were looking at her with interest, all having met her briefly since she moved into town. The women were appraising her, looking her up and down and wondering whom exactly this girl was, and whether she was there to steal their men.

'Nathalie,' Stefan greeted. 'You're early.' Elena turned to him sharply as he greeted her, unsure as to how they had met before.

'Bang on time actually,' she said, looking down at her silver watch. Her accent cut through the atmosphere like a knife, in stark contrast to the American ones surrounding her. She turned to the girls, a warm smile on her face. 'I don't think we've met. I'm Nathalie Potter, resident newbie.'

'I'm Jenna, Jenna Sommers,' the blonde stuck her hand out towards Nathalie, grinning right back at the girl. She gestured towards Elena, who had a somewhat pained but friendly enough expression on her face. 'This is my niece, Elena.'

'Pleasure,' Nathalie said happily, taking Jenna's hand and giving it a firm shake. Jenna wasn't a large woman by any means, but she couldn't help but notice how her hand engulfed Nathalie's small one quite easily. 'I've been enlisted to drive Stefan to the Mystic Grill once he's seen Elena off. I'm not sure how he feels about this, seeing as up to about four days ago I drove on the other side of the car. And road.'

'Apprehensive,' Stefan said, a crooked grin on his face. Jenna and Alaric laughed as Damon stared Nathalie down, with Elena giving a nervous chuckle.

'Enlisted?' Jenna enquired.

'Caroline sent me,' she shrugged. 'Persuasive, that girl. Definitely a force to be reckoned with.'

'You're Caroline's new friend,' Elena said quietly, realisation dawning on her. This is the girl that Stefan told her about last night – the one who knew about vampires, whom Caroline had gone to before she had gone home. She wasn't sure whether she felt more uncomfortable now, or whether she felt somewhat relieved that Stefan wasn't romantically interested her in any way.

'Mm,' Nathalie hummed in agreement. 'Don't let me keep you from your goodbyes, though.' She cast one more smile at the group, before walking back and leaning against her car.

'Sorry you can't come too, Stef,' Damon smirked, slowly tearing his eyes away from the strange girl in front of him and turning towards his brother.

Stefan potently ignored him. 'Call me if you need anything,' he said, smiling gently at Elena.

'Oh, I'll take really good care of her,' Damon chimed in, looking triumphantly at Stefan. This didn't go unnoticed by Elena, who glared at the older Salvatore. She turned to Stefan, grabbing him by the neck and kissed him hard. Nathalie, never a fan of public displays of affection, couldn't help the disgusted look that crossed her face (which Damon mirrored) and the sarcastic, gagging noise that flew from her mouth.

When the couple pulled away from each other, Nathalie was made into the target of Elena's glare as she shrugged, a cheeky look on her face. 'I'm not a fan of P.D.A. Sorry.'

She didn't sound apologetic at all.

Opening her mouth to say something, Elena was interrupted by Damon. 'Okay, time to go,' he said, rolling his eyes and getting into his car. Instead, she turned to Stefan, giving him one last smile as she got into the passenger seat.

Before long, they had driven off, Jenna had said 'Lovely to meet you' to Nathalie again before disappearing into the house and Stefan was in the passenger side of her car.

'So, I hear your brother and your girlfriend are going to Duke to do some werewolf studies,' she said casually, not once taking her eyes from the road.

'Yes,' he said stiffly. He wondered whether Nathalie would be more involved in the situation than he would like – obviously Caroline had filled her in. He couldn't say he was surprised, although he wasn't sure how he felt about Caroline keeping Nathalie's secrets but not keeping theirs.

'And how do _you_ feel about it?' Nathalie said, smirking. Stefan turned to her questioningly, not quite sure what she was talking about. 'I've heard you're broody, but you have a face like a slapped arse right now.'

Stefan glared. 'I'm not broody. And I'm fine.'

'Right,' Nathalie nodded. 'Totally fine.'

'What's that supposed to mean?'

'I mean that,' Nathalie sighed, 'Your brother's a complete dolt from what I've heard, albeit very handsome and your girlfriend is going with him to a university to research a creature you weren't aware even existed. It can't be a normal day for you.. or is it?'

'What do you mean '_you weren't aware even existed_'? Do you know something?' It appeared that Stefan had only heard that particular part of Nathalie's statement. 'I've been around for over a century and a half, and not once have I come across one. Neither has my brother. If they existed, we should have come across one by now.'

The drive from Elena's to the Grill wasn't a long one. It was by complete chance that, as Stefan asked that question, she pulled up just outside of it.

Nathalie shrugged. '_You_ exist, don't you? Doesn't that mean that werewolves could exist too? A hundred odd years isn't that long of a time, it definitely isn't enough time to learn everything there is to know about the world.' Stefan stayed quiet, staring at her. Nathalie shooed him away. 'Now, get in there and get Caroline her ring.'

'No, you obviously know something,' he protested. 'Tell me what you know.'

Nathalie raised an eyebrow, challenging him as his stare intensified.

'Get _out_ of my car, Stefan.'

* * *

><p>'Is Mistress hungry?' Kreacher croaked as she walked through the front door, dropping her keys on the side table. 'Kreacher can make some pie for Mistress.'<p>

'No thank you, Kreacher,' she shook her head, patting his head as he looked saddened. 'I'm going to floo home for Sunday dinner, I think.'

'Mistress is going to the Weasley house?'

'Yes, I think so,' she nodded, looking at her watch. It was about the time that everyone arrived for the weekly Weasley gathering, and she missed her family and friends. Missed her kind of normal. 'I'll bring you some home, alright? Maybe you can work on that list of things you want for your cellar whilst I'm gone.'

Kreacher perked up. 'Yes, Kreacher will do that, Mistress,' he said happily. Well, it sounded very begrudging and miserable, but Nathalie knew that his tone of voice never strayed far from his original, grumpy croak.

'Great. I'll see you in a couple of hours, then,' she grinned as she stepped into the living room. After Caroline had left the night before, she had received an owl from the Kingsley informing her that her fireplace had finally been connected to the network. It would be much easier, now, for Nathalie to go home.

'The Burrow,' she said clearly, stepping into the green flames. She still felt a little fear of the floo network after her accidental trip to Knockturn Alley just before her second year. Maybe that's why she enunciated everything so clearly now.

'NATHALIE!'

* * *

><p>'<em>This is Nathalie. Leave a message<em>.'

'She's not picking up,' Caroline groaned, 'It just keeps going to voicemail.'

Her and Stefan were walking through the woods, beginning their hunting lesson for the day. They were currently out stalking for bunnies, squirrels and possibly a deer, if she was lucky enough.

'I still don't understand why you want her here whilst you hunt,' Stefan said, slightly grumpily. He wasn't into the fact that Nathalie had, essentially, kicked him to the curb this morning.

'I think she could help me,' Caroline said airily, scanning the vicinity for a bunny to eat.

Stefan rolled his eyes. 'Why, because she knows things? Like how she knows about werewolves?'

'Exactly!' Caroline chirped, not expanding on Nathalie's knowledge of them. She knew only of what she had been told that morning; to be honest, after Nathalie mentioned the existence of unicorns she had been far too distracted by that to ask about a werewolf.

'Can't you ask her about the wolves?'

Caroline glared, and Stefan put his hands up defensively. He then placed them together, in a begging gesture, his tone changing into a plead. '_Please_, Caroline.'

'All she said is that they're only dangerous on the full moon, and that there's good ones and bad ones just like normal people,' she retorted, once again scanning the area.

'And you believe that's all she knows?' Stefan asked, brows raised. 'Come on, Care. She knew about alcohol helping vampires control their cravings, do you really think that there isn't a possibility that she knows much, much more?'

She let out an exasperated huff. '_Fine_, Stefan. I'll ask her.'

'Now?' he prodded as Caroline narrowed her eyes at him.

'In case you haven't noticed, Mister Salvatore, I've been calling her for an hour and she hasn't picked up once. I will ask her when she picks up,' she snapped. 'Anyway, wasn't this day supposed to be about me learning how to eat on your vegan vampire diet?'

'Right,' Stefan said, turning his attention to the ground. He couldn't help but feel guilty; he was supposed to be helping Caroline, and yet, he's bugging her about problems that wouldn't- shouldn't- of been hers to begin with. 'Yes. Sorry.'

'Okay,' she nodded. 'So, what am I supposed to do again?'

'Chase it, grab it,' Stefan said. 'Feed on it.'

'Isn't killing cute, defenceless animals the first step in becoming a serial killer?' Caroline sniped, grinning playfully at him.

He fought back the small smile trying to make it's way onto his face.

'Well, you sort of skipped the serial killer and went straight to vampire.'

* * *

><p>The Weasley house was pretty full that day. Everyone and their spouses had managed to make it to the house apart from Charlie, and the Tonks family - Andromeda and Teddy - also decided to grace the family with their presence.<p>

Nathalie couldn't be happier, and they were ever so excited to see her.

Especially Teddy, Hermione, Ron and George.

'Natnat!' Teddy squealed, holding his chubby arms out towards her for a cuddle. She laughed and took him from Andromeda's arms, spinning him around as he clung onto her neck tightly, giggling. 'I missed you!' he said happily, smiling into her neck as she held him close.

'Missed you too, Teddybear,' she grinned. 'It's only been a few days, sweetie pie.'

'Go home with you!' he said, his English sounding a little broken, but very advanced for his age. Everyone always put it down to the fact he had such a big family - learning to talk quickly was part of the territory.

'Maybe one day, sweetheart,' she said, brushing his hair out of his eyes.

'Alright, Mum, Angelina's on her wa- Nathalie!' George walked through the front door, his face brightening as soon as he spotted his friend. He sped over, engulfing Nathalie in a hug and picking her up, causing both her and Teddy to squeal in surprise.

'George! I have a child here!'

'Teddy loves it, don't you mate?' he said, smirking. 'How's life across the pond?'

'Interesting,' Nathalie smirked right back, eyes twinkling underneath her glasses. 'I have so much to tell you all.'

'You best not be getting yourself into any trouble,' Mrs. Weasley chided, walking into the room with several plates of food following behind her. She turned to Nathalie with a raised eyebrow, smacking George's hand away from the roast potatoes without looking at him. She ignored his glare as she put her hands on her hips, scrutinising Nathalie. 'You said you'd be careful.'

'I am!' Nathalie protested, cowering slightly under Mrs. Weasley's glare. 'Blame Ron, Mrs. Weasley, he picked where I was going to live!'

'Hmm, we'll talk about everything after dinner,' she said, looking at Nathalie carefully. 'George, where's Angelina?'

He rolled his eyes. 'I told you, she was on her way. She was just finishing up with the trifle.'

'You said absolutely no such thing,' Mrs Weasley snapped, just as the flames went green and Angelina stepped out, clutching a large, glass bowl full of trifle.

'Auntie Angie!' Teddy chirped, waving happily at her (although he still hadn't released his hold on her).

'Hey Teddy. Didn't expect to see you here Nat,' she said, leaning over and giving them both a hug whilst carefully balancing the pudding in one arm.

'Oh, thank you for the pudding, dear,' Mrs Weasley said, hurrying over and taking it from Angelina. 'Looks delicious.'

'You already cater for an army,' she chuckled, 'It's absolutely no trouble at all.'

'You're going to regret saying that Ang,' George chuckled as she leaned down and kissed him on the cheek. 'She'll just keep giving you things to cook from now on.'

Mrs Weasley smacked him upside the head.

'Now, where on earth is Ronald?'

Mrs Weasley shot out of the room, making a beeline for the kitchen where Andromeda was peeling a mountain of carrots. Teddy cooed slightly, twirling Nathalie's long waves in his hands as her, Angelina and George looked on in amusement.

* * *

><p>Leaning back into the sofa, Ronald let out a long, drawn out belch, earning him a smack from Hermione and Nathalie as the rest of the women groaned in disgust whilst the men laughed.<p>

'Ow!' he grumbled, rubbing the back of his head. The entire family and extended family had gathered into the room. Hermione, Ron, Neville and Ginny had squashed themselves on the sofa. Mr Weasley was sat in one of the armchairs, Mrs Weasley perched on the arm whilst Fleur and Bill shared the other. George had his back against the side of the sofa with Angelina leaning on his chest. Percy had pulled two chairs from the kitchen, one for himself and one for Andromeda. Finally, Nathalie was leaning against Hermione's legs, clutching a sleepy Teddy to her chest. Dinner had been quite an affair, many people talking over each other with a huge amount of food consumption that probably wasn't healthy for anyone. It was therefore required that, after cleaning up, everyone should get together and just relax in the afterglow of a lovely meal.

'Tell us about your new place then Nat,' Bill said, trying to ignore the discomfort of his overstuffed belly. 'Are you liking it?'

'I've not really explored that much, to be honest,' she replied, shifting Teddy's head so that it was snuggled against her neck. 'There's literally one restaurant, though. Absolutely tiny town.'

'But you said it was interesting earlier,' George said, raising an eyebrow. 'That sounds completely tedious, to be honest.'

Nathalie tried to shrug. 'It's full of vampires.'

'_What_?!' Mrs Weasley shrieked as everyone sat up a little straighter, all sharing a similar expression of surprise. Teddy's eyes snapped open at Mrs Weasley's voice. His eyes began to water as the shock wore off, and Nathalie quickly cradled his head and shushed him, giving him a kiss on the forehead. 'Oh, I'm sorry, Teddy dear.'

He sniffled as Nathalie continued to speak. 'They seem alright. I mean, the townsfolk are still walking. There's Wiccan witches too. Maybe a couple of werewolves.'

'You said this was a Muggle town,' Hermione said, forehead creased in concern. 'That doesn't sound very Muggle to me.'

Nathalie, again, tried to shrug. 'I don't believe that the town is particularly normal. It's probably the closest to our strand of magic that the Muggle world has to ours,' she turned to Ron, her face amused. 'Of all places you could've picked, Ron.'

'Hey!' he protested as Mrs Weasley glared at him, 'Don't blame this on me!'

'It's alright,' Nathalie laughed, rubbing the back of Teddy's head trying to get him to go back to sleep. It seemed to be working. 'I did nearly get eaten by a vampire the other day.'

'How did that happen?' Mrs Weasley snapped, 'I told you to be careful!'

'I am being careful, Mrs Weasley,' Nathalie sighed exasperatedly. 'She got through my wards, which meant she meant no ill will when she crossed them. She was turned the night before she found me, and I felt bad for her. She's actually really lovely, you'd like her a lot. Her name's Caroline.'

'Vampires are turning Muggles?' Percy intercepted sharply. 'Is that even legal?'

'Most vampires start off as Muggles, Percy,' Hermione chimed in. 'It's just how it is.'

'These ones can walk in the sun,' Nathalie said airily.

The room was shocked into silence.

'What?' Andromeda breathed. 'How on earth-'

'Wiccan witches can cast a spell on a piece of Lapis Lazuli jewellery to enable them to walk in the sun,' she said, appraising all of the expressions around her. They varied from blankness, to horror, to plain old shocked. 'It's a pretty well-kept secret, though, even in the vampire community. Caroline told me that Wiccan witches keep Grimoires with spells they've either created or collected and pass it down through the generations, and apparently they don't like sharing. As far as I know, only a few vampires even know of it's existence, let alone actually own one.'

'That should be impossible, though,' Mr Weasley protested. 'Wiccan magic is supposed to be far weaker than our kind.'

'Maybe it just works completely differently,' Angelina said. 'I mean, has anyone in our world even tried finding a solution to the sun?'

'Not as far as I'm aware,' Hermione said, shaking her head. 'But prejudice against creatures and half breeds has always been a huge problem with the people and the Ministry, in my opinion.'

'You need to look after yourself better, Nathalie,' Fleur said, concern laced in her heavily-accented voice. 'Nobody needz to be peeking you up in a coffin.'

'I'm absolutely fine, Fleur,' Nathalie laughed. 'I actually quite like it. For once, I'm not worrying about my own problems.'

'Is being away helping?' Mrs Weasley asked quietly, true worry shining in her eyes. It lessened slightly as Nathalie gave her a soft, reassuring smile, feeling warmed by the concern for her wellbeing displayed by everyone in the room.

'Yes, Mrs Weasley. I really think it is.'

'And you'll let us know if you need anything at all?'

'Promise.'

'Good.'

* * *

><p>Caroline was yanked away from Matt. In her frenzied feed, she tried desperately to kick against her captor, who was holding her arms down and saying something to her in an attempt to calm her down. She couldn't quite understand what he was saying to her, and she continued to fight her way towards the source of the blood.<p>

Eventually, though, she understood.

'Stop! Stop, stop, stop!' Stefan said, holding her tight as his tone cut through the fog of her brain like a knife.

Her eyes, fixated on Matt, widened as he fainted from the blood loss.

'Oh my God,' she breathed, guilt pooling in her stomach as she realised exactly what she had done. Almost blindly, she pulled her phone out from her pocket, dialling her most recent number and ignoring Stefan's protests. It took a few rings and she was sure it was going to be directed to voicemail like it had done earlier, but eventually, she picked up.

'_Caroline_?' Nathalie said, her voice concerned.

'I bit Matt,' Caroline choked. 'I didn't mean to.'

'_He's not dead, is he_?' she replied, her voice neutral. In the background, Caroline heard a distinct 'what?!' and a few surprised gasps, but ignored them. She shook her head rapidly, before realising that Nathalie wouldn't be able to see. 'No,' she said softly. 'No, no, no. Stefan stopped me.'

As she said his name, she realised that his eyes were wide, panicked. Her forehead creased in confusion.

'_Good. Alright, I'll be there in just a minute, okay? Hang tight_.'

'Caroline, we need to get out of these woods now,' Stefan said quickly, eyes darting around the trees. 'We need to leave.'

She heard a rustle behind her.

'What was that?' she stuttered.

'Matt, stay down,' he said firmly, 'Do not move.'

The rustling became louder, and it was no longer in one location. Neither Stefan or Caroline could pinpoint exactly where the noise was coming from.

She could feel the panic bubbling up her throat.

'You, and me, we're gonna run,' Stefan instructed. 'It's gonna follow us; we need to lead it away from Matt. You need to run as fast as you can, do you understand me?'

He sounded like a parent, Caroline noted, but nodded anyway.

'Go, go!'

Both of them sped off, arriving at the old ruins before long. Caroline couldn't wait any more - she stopped, and asked Stefan the question that was burning in her mind.

'Wait!' she said, causing him to stop and turn to her. 'What is it?'

'It's a werewolf. He will try to kill us, and he can,' Stefan said, panic laced in his voice. He held onto her arm with every intention of pulling them away from the woods, when they were interrupted.

'Hey!' Tyler appeared from the ruins. 'What are you two doing?'

A loud crack! echoed through the trees. All of their heads snapped in different directions looking for the source, but saw nothing.

'What are you doing?' Stefan retorted slowly, peeling his eyes away from the trees for just a moment. Tyler was about to respond, when the werewolf pounced.

It took less than a second to take Caroline down, looking completely rabid as spit dripped from menacing, sharp teeth. She screamed, trying desperately to keep those jaws away from any part of her.

Stefan rushed towards them, pushing the wolf off as Tyler stared on in shock.

The wolf started prowling again, growling at the two vampires. Out of nowhere, a shadow crossed the group from above and they all turned their heads to it, including the wolf.

Without any warning, it let out a large caw and made a dive towards the wolf. It's huge talons cut deep into his back, causing him to howl in pain and whimper as he fell to the ground. It took only a moment for him to recover, completely ignoring the blood pouring from his back as the bird circled around him. A vicious bark tore at his mouth as he turned towards the once vampire again, his instincts screaming that a vampire was a much greater threat than a bird.

'No!' Tyler shouted as the wolf prepared to leap towards her again. The eagle had flown between the two, looking very ready to pull the wolf's eyes from it's sockets and looking very much like it had a hard glare on it's face.

It was quiet apart from the sound of the bird's wings flapping as the wolf turned to Tyler, sizing him up. Slowly the wolf turned away, deciding to follow it's orders. He attempted to run off, but he was slowed significantly by the deep tears into his back and the blood that was beginning to severely stain his fur. He hobbled a little bit, trying to find a way to run that wouldn't pull the muscles too much and hinder his getaway. As he ran, he didn't notice the eagle following him until he was out of sight of the vampires. The creature then landed on the ground, staring into the direction the wolf had run in.

A few seconds later, it was no longer an eagle.

Nathalie took a deep breath, noting the blood stains on her boots with a sigh and ran back in the direction of Caroline, Stefan and Tyler.

* * *

><p>Stefan sped towards Tyler, grabbing him by the shoulders and looking him in the eye. '<em>You won't remember seeing me and Caroline tonight<em>.'

'I won't remember,' Tyler chanted.

Stefan sighed, relieved to see that he could be compelled. It was short-lived, however, as a familiar husky voice reached his ears.

'That's not going to work for long, you know,' Nathalie said airily as she appeared before them.

'Nat!' Caroline breathed, launching herself at the girl. The scent of blood reached her nose then. It wasn't as appealing as human blood, otherwise she probably would have lost control, but the smell was definitely there. She looked to the source of it - Nathalie's shoes - and gasped. 'That was-'

'Yes,' she interrupted, her eyes still fixed on Stefan, who was staring straight back. 'Later, Caroline.'

She nodded, and Nathalie continued. 'Care told me about your animal diet. You're weaker than you should be,' she said matter-of-factly, 'Your compulsion will wear off before you know it. Especially since he has the wolf gene.'

'And what do you propose we do, Nathalie?' he snapped, fed up of how she seemed to know so much. It had been a long time since he had actually wanted to torture someone for information seeing as she was being so cagey with him.

'Move,' she said firmly, pulling Caroline off of her and pulling her wand from her boot, pointing it in Tyler's face. Stefan looked on in confusion, noticing how Caroline's face was quite impassive.

'_Obliviate_.'

Tyler's eyes glazed over as he turned and walked in the opposite direction, heading to another part of the woods. Stefan's eyebrows shot up as he noticed that Tyler's expression was eerily similar to a person who had been recently compelled.

He gaped at her as she turned back to him, her eyes totally serious.

'I feel like we have a lot to talk about,' she said calmly, 'But let's deal with the Matt issue first. You bit him, Caroline?'

She nodded.

'Lead the way.'

Caroline started walking towards where they had left Matt, followed closely by Nathalie. Stefan stayed rooted to his spot for a minute, contemplating what he had just seen.

Slowly, he lifted his left foot and started taking one step after another, following the two girls.

* * *

><p>'<em>You're not going to remember what I did to you, or what you saw me become<em>,' Caroline compelled, her voice laced in sadness.

'We were just making out in the woods,' he said robotically.

'_And then an animal attacked you and bit your neck_.'

'It's weird, it just came out of nowhere.'

Nathalie focused on her poker face, refusing to show Stefan and Caroline how weird it was to watch the compelling process. She felt extremely sorry for the busboy, but pushed back any of these feelings in favour of the compassion bubbling in her chest towards Caroline. She had absolutely no idea how she must feel - what Nathalie did understand, however, that death was now part of Caroline's nature whether she liked it or not. And she felt proud that, despite a couple of slip ups, that she was managing to keep herself in control extremely well if the context of the situation was taken into consideration. She had only been turned a few days ago, after all.

Nathalie had seen witches and wolves more driven by their bloodlust than Caroline.

Caroline turned to her and Stefan. He was standing next to her, dividing his attention between his new protégé and the mystery girl that had unwittingly barrelled her way into their town and become fast friends with the blonde. 'What are we going to do about Tyler?'

'It's dealt with, and we'll get Matt on vervain. It'll keep you from compelling him, and keep you from drinking his blood.'

She nodded slowly. 'I can't believe I hurt him,' she whispered brokenly. Stefan took a step towards her, as Nathalie took a step back. She knew that this would be a vampire-vampire moment , and decided to stay out of it.

'I know,' he said sympathetically, putting his hand on her arm.

'He's the one person on this planet that I _never_ wanted to hurt,' she sighed, unable to cry.

'It's not going to get any easier. You're just gonna have to work that much harder.'

'I shouldn't be with him, should I?' she said rhetorically, shaking her head. 'Because if there's any danger…'

'I'm the last person to make that kind of decision for you,' Stefan said softly, 'If I had to follow my own advice, I would have walked away from Elena a long time ago.'

'You ever think you should have?'

'I know I should have,' he said resignedly. 'I just can't.'

The two vampires looked at each other, realising that they were coming to an understanding. Despite the interesting turn her night had taken, she couldn't help but smile at the sight of the two forming a genuine bond even though the reason for it want particularly pleasant.

'Come on,' she said gently, holding a hand out to each vampire. They looked at her curiously. 'I have a few bottles of firewhiskey left. I'm sure you have a few questions for me, Stefan, and you could both have a couple hours of relaxation.'

Caroline shook her head. 'You go first,' she said, coming to a decision. 'I have something I need to do.'

Nathalie and Stefan looked on in sympathy, knowing exactly what that meant. She gave them a soft smile in return.

'Call Kreacher when you're finished. He'll bring you back to mine.'

She nodded, speeding away from the two. Nathalie again held her hand out towards Stefan, who took it cautiously.

A second later, a loud _pop_! had signified their departure.

* * *

><p>'What are you?' Stefan said as he tried to suck in any amount of oxygen into his lungs. One second he had been in the woods; the next, he was in Nathalie's home. Gasping for air, he stared at her slightly frightened as she looked on in amusement.<p>

'Straight to the point, aren't you?' she chuckled. 'Let's sit you down and get you a drink. Make yourself at home.'

'_What are you_?' he asked again, this time more fiercely. She rolled her eyes at him and made her way to the kitchen anyway, pulling out two bottles of firewhiskey and three glasses. She decided to tuck a bottle of elf-made wine under her arm for good measure. Somehow, she managed to carry three bottles with one side of her body and six glasses with the other (three tumblers and two wine glasses in one hand, with the last wine glass also tucked under her arm). She made her way back into the hallway, heading towards her living room as Stefan was still frozen in one spot. She placed everything down on the coffee table, pouring Stefan a firewhiskey and holding it out to him.

He didn't take it.

Nathalie rolled her eyes, pushing it into his hands regardless. 'Look, Stefan, I get that you're feeling all protective and suspicious and all that, but right now you need to have a drink,' she eyed his posture up. 'I'm not telling you anything whilst you're as strung out as a violin.'

He looked down at his drink. It felt slightly warm in his hands, yet not – it was a strange sensation he had never felt, and curiosity burned his insides. 'Is this the firewhiskey Caroline told me about?' he said slowly, trying to relax. He needed the information more than he needed anything else and she didn't look too dangerous at this moment (he couldn't help but stare at her boot where that stick of hers was tucked into every few minutes) so he decided that following her advice would probably work out best for him in the long run.

Nathalie nodded, her mouth quirked up into a smile. 'She likes it a lot.'

He was apprehensive, but after a few minutes of staring into his glass, he raised it to his lips. Stefan couldn't help but feel surprise at just how strong it actually was. And, it was pretty delicious – he didn't think he had ever tasted anything like it. Damon would have a field day over this stuff.

'It's good,' he said, the compliment sounding empty even to his ears. He winced slightly.

Nathalie tilted her head, looking at him blankly. Without any warning, she reached out and placed her hand on his knee, giving it a soft squeeze when he tensed up at her touch.

'I'm not going to hurt you or anyone else here, Stefan,' she said softly, a genuine smile playing at her lips. 'Just relax.'

He didn't respond. A century on this planet had taught him how to read people fairly accurately – from what he could see, Nathalie was being genuine about her claim. He slowly leaned forward as she took her hand away, his placing his elbows on his knees and leaning forward, waiting.

'This conversation will last forever and go in fifteen hundred directions if we don't set out what's going to be talked about,' she joked, knowing that Stefan had too many questions for her to even comprehend. 'I'll tell you who, and what I am, and then we'll talk about werewolves, alright?'

He nodded, and Nathalie opened her mouth to speak.

'I'm a witch.'

* * *

><p><em>An extra long chapter to make up for the wait and to celebrate 100+ reviews in 3 chapters!<em>

_Thank you all so much for your positivity. It makes me smile every day. Xo_

_PS: if you do not like super long chapters, let me know and I'll split them up. I personally love them, but if more people prefer shorter chapters than I'll upload shorter chapters. This one was about 12000+ words._


End file.
